Small Wonders
by Shmeeko
Summary: At an all time low in life, Nick heads south with no destination in mind. What he discovers along the way is not only a talent he can use, but an enthusiastic child whose own talents help Nick get back on the road to a better future.  Pre-Apoc.
1. Chapter 1

It was a wonder the young man didn't crash as he sped down the dusty highway at speeds well over the limit, teeth grinding and fingers digging harshly into the steering wheel. Everything he had to his name was located somewhere within arm's reach, excluding what was in his trunk.

It pissed him off.

Barely two years earlier, Nick had been on top of the world, holding down a decent job with a decent woman sharing his name, almost right out of school. He had a place to stay, money in the bank, a damn nice car that had been a gift from his grandfather and a direction in life.

Now, he had no place to stay, no desire to work and one shitty Ford Contour that had seen far better days. His suitcase which had been thrown in the backseat was packed with nothing more than two suits, a pair of pajamas, an empty wallet and a toothbrush.

All he had left, after she'd taken everything.

How could he have been so blind? She was a demon, without a doubt. She'd put on the innocent facade of 'sweet and sexy' since that first day of high school, it was no wonder he'd fallen. They'd been happy the first five years, right up to the point where he sucked in his pride, got down on one knee and decided he was ready to face the rest of his life with this woman.

The dumbest thing he will ever do, he was sure.

The first year had been a cakewalk, the second, rocky and slowly descending into loud arguments. The third, shortly after the miscarriage, was when she took his savings, his Impala, their love and left him with little more than an empty house full of debts she'd cleverly kept hidden.

So, he did the first thing that came to mind upon waking to find his seemingly perfect life nothing but a bitter facade.

He ran.

He took the few things he'd need, the only car he had left and drove out into the world. He didn't know where he was going, he left no note to friends and family. After all, he had few close friends to being with and his family had never really agreed with his choice in women.

And he sure-as-shit wasn't about to face them and tell them they were right.

All he knew for sure was that he was heading south.

* * *

After making his umpteenth stop for gas, Nicolas decided leaving so suddenly was probably a brash, stupid thing to do. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to stay and his car was about the largest asset to his name. He had already started to try and rationalize his departure, especially as he stood alone in the station and listened to the steady pump of gasoline through a pipe.

There really wasn't much left for him in Chicago, seeing as Mrs. Right had left. His job was decent, but he found no thrill in sitting behind an office desk for eight hours a day. His sarcastic nature made finding (and keeping) close friends a difficult task. To top it all off, life had begun to become a bore to him. His relationship had suffered accordingly, if his standing in a lonely gas station was any testament to that.

So maybe, maybe his headstrong descision to bolt at the first sign of trouble was some subliminal drive for freedom. He could start a new life, even if it started on the road. Maybe this life would reap more rewards than the common man's.

As the lever jumped in his hand, the young man removed the pump from his car and went inside to pay. He didn't have much, but he had enough. He paid and bought himself a pepsi, proceeding back out to his car with a renewed enthusiasm. At the very least, Nick was going to give this 'new-life' thing a shot, even if it meant leaving his old one behind.

He'd get over it. His family was broken anyways.

So now, all that was left to do was to get going. He ducked down into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him. The contour sputtered to life, a peculiar rattling sounding from under the hood. The man listened for a while, and the rattle vanished. He ignored it, carrying on with his thoughts.

Miami seemed like a good place to start. He would head there, first. Where he would go after was only a minor detail. It was better to start heading in one direction with a goal in mind then wander around wasting good money with nowhere to go.

Sucking in air between his teeth, he sped out of the station and continued south.

* * *

Until fate decided he wasn't allowed an easy trip.

The rattling had returned, quietly at first. He'd tried to ignore it, thinking that if he did it would simply go away as it did before. Instead, the noise got insistently louder and louder until he was forced to find a place to stop, having terrible mental images of his car going up in flames with him stuck inside.

He rolled into a dusty-looking motel when the rattling was at it's loudest. He parked the beaten up peice of junk by a room, then headed towards the desk to claim it.

"Evening, sir." A chubby girl only a little younger than him waved to him from her seat behind the desk, lifting her eyes from her computer screen. He approached her, already fishing for his wallet out of his back pocket. Grimly, he realized this was the last of his remaining funds.

But he'd spent the past few days sleeping in his uncomfortable car, he wasn't about to cause himself more soreness by pulling the same stunt in an unreliable, uncomfortable car.

"Just a room, please."

"That your car?" The girl leaned to one side to catch a glimpse of the thing out the window. Her face scrunched up. He felt the same.

"Unfortunately."

"Just the one night?"

"Just the one."

"That'll be Twenty-five dollars, Mr..." The girl looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow quizzically. He was dressed in one of his favourite suits, a well-fitting black suit with a sharp red dress-shirt underneath.

"Nick, just call me Nick.

"Alright, that'll be twenty-five dollars, Nick. We can have one of the local mechanics look at your car for an extra fee, if you'd like."

Ah, so she'd heard the rattling too.

"No, no. It's alright, I'll handle it. Just the room." He couldn't afford a mechanic, anyways.

Nick emptied the bills from his wallet, just barely enough to pay. He took the keys from her hand and turned on his heel, already making his way towards the door. Before exiting, he paused and threw a gaze over his shoulder.

"Is there a bar around here?"

"Just down the road to your right, sir."

"Right. Thanks."

He stepped out into the humid air, rubbing absently at his temple as he proceeded towards his room. He fit the key into the lock and pushed himself inside. The room was small,a single double-bed pushed against the wall with a T.V on a cabinet across from it. There was a small cloest tucked into the opposite wall and a door that presumably hid the bathroom.

He headed there first.

The shower was one of the best he'd had in years. Partially because it was the first one he'd had in days. Days spent in a hot, humid car without working AC. Partially because it gave him the opportunity to properly put himself together for the first time in days.

He donned a similar suit to the one he'd been wearing pre-clean, coloured in a similar scheme but with far softer colours. He combed through his wet hair, pulling it back as he did so. He had no gel to keep the strands in place, so he had to settle for what little hold his damp hair could provide.

After dabbing on cheap cologne, he left the bathroom and headed back into the unimpressive room.

But he had no intention of staying inside. He quickly crossed the carpeting and stepped back out into the night, choosing to leave his untrustworthy car in the lot and walk to the bar he presumed was down the road to his right, as the girl had said.

He passed by the front office, casting a curious glance inside as he did.

A short, thin woman was standing in front of the desk, talking to the chubby clerk with rapid motions of her hands. Nick paused, taking another look out into the parking lot with a frown.

Ah. There was another car parked not too far away from his own.

He turned back to peer inside, only to have his view suddenly obscured by a small form that collided suddenly and solidly with the glass window, making him jerk back in surprise.

"Holy shi-!" He cut himself off, narrowing his eyes down at the shape that now blocked with window.

A young boy with a mop of untamed brown hair pressed his face into the window, opening his mouth and making a strange expression at the man on the other side. He pulled his head back, grinned cheerfully up to the young man, before his face dulled thoughtfully. After a moment, he snickered silently through the glass, pressing his face back up against it. He dragged his cheek along the glass, mushing the flesh of his nose into the solid object, distorting his face and making odd noises that came muffled through the window.

Nick furrowed his eyebrows, staring down at the boy as he continued the act of making odd faces at him.

The woman turned, spotting this exchange and rushing over to the child. She grabbed him by the arm, pulled him away from the window and shook a long finger in front of his nose. Her voice came out rushed and angry, though the words were impossible to make out. She looked up to Nick, smiled apologetically and gave a little wave before towing the boy towards the desk, her grip firm on his arm.

The kid cast a gaze over his shoulder, scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue.

Nick simply chuckled, carrying on his way with a shake of his head.

"Kids."

* * *

"Hey, kid."

Nick lifted his head to stare at the approaching man. He looked to his left, then his right, thinking he might've been calling someone else.

"Yeah, you. Get off this table."

The young man frowned, gripping his cue tightly. He hadn't come here to drink, but he'd placed a good amount of faith on the bar, hoping it would at least have a pool table to pass the time and vent frustration. He was sent over the moon when he found out that they did, and that it was one of the only ones open at the time. Without a word to any of the other customers, he quietly went away to playing.

It had been how he vented his frustration after dealing with any less-than-stellar situation. After fighting with his dad, after fighting with friends, after fighting with his wife...

He was nearly done his second game when the large, moustached man had sauntered his way.

"Why?" Was all Nick bothered to respond with, already bending down to take another shot.

""Cause this is the table me 'n my buddies take when we play."

"I'm using it." The young man pocketed two balls with these three words.

The elder man huffed.

"Yeah, and I'm asking you to stop. This is our table."

"There's one open right there. Use that one." Nick nodded his head towards an abandoned table a couple metres away. He set about sending a striped ball into the corner pocket with a loud smack.

"I told ya, I don't wanna use that one. This one is our usual table."

"Tough."

Nick no longer had the patience to deal with people. After all, he'd had a decidedly rough few weeks, had reached the end of his rope and was just beginning to unwind with a good, solo game of pool when this jackass decided to ruin it all.

With narrowed eyes, he gave the cue ball a harsh tap, sending it flying into a solid.

The man watched this, eyes on the ball as it drifted into a side pocket. He hummed thoughtfully and Nick pretended not to notice when the man let his grin stretch wickedly.

"I'll play you for it."

"Isn't it just easier to take another one?" Nick sighed almost ready to relinquish, but something had clicked in the back of his mind. The next shot he took, he missed.

This only seemed to encourage the man.

"How 'bout a wager then, I'll play you for the table, and we'll make it interesting?"

Nick didn't miss this time.

"Interesting, how?" he asked.

"Five grand."

Nick had to hide the sudden, cunning grin that wanted to spring onto his face. He missed again, though not unintentionally. He stood straight, stretched out his back and turned to the man with a thoughtful expression.

"That's a lot to bet. You sure you have that kind of money?"

_I sure as hell don't._

"Don't be a coward, I'm sure a guy like you can afford it."

The man made a pointed gesture to his attire.

Nick shrugged.

"All that over a table?"

"No, all that to put a brat in his place. Besides, I could use some extra money."

"I don't know..." He stooped back down, going to take another shot with careful prescision. Feeling the man's eyes in his back, he allowed himself to miss, but only barely.

"Can you afford ten?"

_Fuck no._

Instead,

"Can you?"

The man's grin stretched wider, he stuck out a large hand in agreement.

"Does that mean we have a deal?"

Nick feigned uncertainty for a few long moments, staring at the large hand as if weighing his options. After he'd felt the pause was long enough, he took the man's hand and shook it firmly. He laughed and went to set up the next game, motioning for his friends to come play an audience to some kid's humiliating defeat.

They saw no such thing.

What they did see, however, was that 'kid's careful execution of timing, cunning, manipulation and pure skill. He had, after all, been playing the game relentlessly since well before his voice broke.

He started poorly, letting the guy take a few good shots and carry on bragging to his friends. Gradually, he began to catch up, however, and the bragging quieted just a little. Towards the end of the game, Nick had a steady lead and the gall to say he hadn't even had to start trying yet.

"Shit, kid, you're getting real lucky," grumbled the man as he bent to take another shot. Nick predicted he'd miss. He did.

"I suppose so," the young man swept around the table, thoughtfully searching for another play. He spotted one that would sink a single, swooping down to take it.

Then the door opened with a jingle of a bell.

Of course, plenty of people had come and gone since the game had started, so Nick was a little confused as to why this one drew more of his attention. Perhaps it was because no large figure stumbled through or out of the door after the ding. It simply opened, then shut.

Then a mess of brown hair was floating through the bar.

Nick raised himself a little, staring at the bobbing head with a confused frown.

"Hey, kid, it's your shot."

"Right...right." Shaking his head to clear it, the man lowered himself back down and lined up the shot. Just as he pulled back to shoot, a pair of bright blue eyes met his levelly from across the table.

He couldn't help it, in his surprise, he took the shot and missed the point he was aiming for by just that much. Letting out a frustrated hiss, he stood up straight, ready to curse at the distraction when he realized that the eyes did not raise as he did.

"What the..." In the excitement of him missing a shot, no one really paid attention to what Nick was so busy staring at.

The boy was there again, staring up at him with a goofy smile, giving a little wave before drawing his attention back to the game at hand as if nothing was amiss. Nick cast his gaze around the bar for any sign of the kid's mother.

The resounding crack of a ball hitting another drew the man's attention back to the game, concluding that the boy was here on his own. Wasn't there an age limit or something...?

Regardless of the little audience member, Nick still had a game to win.

He narrowed his eyes down at the green table top. There were four of his solids left, as opposed to three of his opponent's striped. However, there was something jumping out to him, painfully obvious to his careful, detail-particular eyes. He was gambling that the man didn't have the same attention to detail as he did.

"Alright, I can see where this is going," he said with a sigh as he chalked his cue another time.

"Gonna back out, coward?"

"I might as well," he bluffed, "I thought I had this..."

"You can't back out, kid, a deal's a deal."

"No, no. I'll finish the game." Nick nodded his head slowly, "but I'm a big fan of going out with a bang, go big or go home, right?"

The man gave him a careful look.

"...So...?"

"I'll throw fifteen grand down on the table," he withdrew his wallet and slammed it down onto the lip of the table, pressing the leather beneath his palm as if it held some value. "On the bet that I can win in the next shot."

"Seriously, kid? Are you that dumb?" The man stared baffled at the table, scanning the plays as best he could.

"No, just...I had money to blow coming here, so I might as well make it worth my trouble, right? If I make it, I get a nice sum of cash. If not, I go home hungry for a night."

_And with a few missing teeth, maybe a black eye._

The man stroked his moustache thoughtfully, studying the table, then darting to the wallet Nick pinned under his palm. Tempted not to lose the high-risk situation to thought, the young man pressed for an answer.

"I mean, I can understand if you can't afford it, I'll just take the ten grand."

"You're not going to win." The man growled.

"I know, I'm just saying, _If _I do."

This time, the man scoffed.

"You're not. Alright, fifteen it is."

Nick bent, inhaling as he did, purposefully taking his time to line up his shot. Instead of aiming for the closest ball, he aimed for the furthest. He'd added up the angles which the balls could possibly take. If he got the right amount of power, it was quite possible for him to sink all four. Unlikely, but possible.

He was in the mood to push his luck.

After staring at the cue for a few long seconds, he chanced a gaze up.

The boy was still standing there, wide eyes fixed on the table, a large grin on his young face. When he realized he was being stared at, he lifted his gaze to the risk-taking man about to make the shot. Blue met Green. The kid nodded, grin getting wider.

_Did he...?_

Nick shook his head, bringing his focus back to the game with a frown. The shake was more to clear his head than anything else. However, the kid's bright eyes stood out in his peripherals, even as he drew back.

Even as he hit the cue ball.

Even as it bounced off one ball, sunk it.

The next.

Sunk it.

The final two.

Sunken.

A cheer arose from the small crowd of spectators.

And though it was arguably the smallest voice and lost in the lower-pitched yells, the kid's rambunctious cheering might as well have been the loudest shouting in the room to Nick.

The losing man sputtered, unable to form words as he stared in frustration at the table. He reached into his pocket, fished out his wallet and withdrew a large wad of cash that had been nicely clipped together. He removed at least half from it, counting the remaining money in the clip before throwing it towards the youngster who'd bested him.

"Man o' my word," he grumbled as he turned away from the table.

Nick swiped up the cash, thanking whatever deity of luck existed, snickering to himself at the man's last remark.

_Suck to be you, as I'm certainly not, and am fifteen grand richer._

He was clapped on the back numerous times, congratulated and offered drinks, all of which he graciously accepted, basking in the attention, feeling as if he was the king of the world.

Even _with_ that dumb kid staring him down, a goofy grin still on his face.

* * *

"Howdy, mister!"

Nick lowered his beer back to the table, having been idly staring off into space as he brought himself down from the adrenaline high the win had brought him. The kid's head poked over the high table, never without that stupid grin.

"Kid, aren't you a little young to be here?" The man frowned as the boy tried to scramble on to the high stools, barely managing to drag himself up into a seated position.

"That was jus' about the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Nick was ignored as the boy spoke. "I 'aint never seen anyone play pool as good as you do, how'd ya know ya'd make the shot? I mean, I saw it 'n all, my pa used to be real good at pool, but I dinn't think ya'd make it!"

The kid had a very distinct, very heavy southern accent. Nick snorted.

"Practice makes perfect," he crowed.

"Aw, shucks, you must practice loads!"

"Yeah, yeah. Where's your mom, kid?"

"I'unno, sleepin' maybe. But I wasn't sleepy 'n I get real bored when 'm lonely, so I came down here to pass the time!"

"'To pass the time'?" echoed the man with a frown. "Kid, this is a _bar_. With _alcohol._ And _violent men._"

The kid stared, smiling dumbly as if he didn't know what the man was driving at.

"What are you, ten? This is no place for children."

Finally, that smile lost it's light, replaced with a pout.

"I'm eleven-an'-a-half, I'll have you know!"

"Whatever. You're still a minor. Shit, kid, you'd think you'd have a better place to hang out than a bar." With this, Nick downed the rest of his complimentary drink. It was hardly enough to get him even slightly tipsy, but just enough to keep him warm and help him sleep. He had a feeling he wasn't going to be here much longer anyways.

"I kin take care o' myself, y'know."

"Sure you can," the man gave a roll of his eyes and stood, "come on, I'm going back now."

"So? That don' mean I gotta."

"Yes it does. I'm your elder, and I'm not about to let you hang around unsupervised in a bar, for Christ's sake."

"I 'aint unsupervised! 'M lookin' after myself!"

"Right, right. Move it."

The kid tried to glare angrily up at Nick, only to find his attention span didn't allow him to care long enough to hold the blank look he was returned with. He huffed, then shrugged, then tried to push himself off the stool. He hung a little awkwardly off the edge, legs dangling for a moment before he jumped to the ground. Seeing this, the man simply sighed and shook his head, mumbling something about kids as he headed towards the door, the boy happily on his heels. Apparently, he'd forgotten why he was upset with the man.

"Yer stayin' at the Motel too, 'aintcha? That was your piece o' junk out in the lot, righ'?"

"Indeed." With the smell of alcohol and the sound of laughter behind him, Nick started on his way down the road. The boy tried to keep in step at his side, but he would fall back every few steps and have to jog to keep up with the man's brisk stride.

"Hoo, you'd think a guy like with you with yer fancy suit 'n oodles of money woulda got a nicer car."

Nick chuckled.

"Oodles? Kid, this suit is about two years old, and before that game I'd blown my last twenty on this shit motel."

The boy's eyes widened, looking up to the older man with a look of alarm.

"You mean ta say ya lied?"

The man shrugged.

"That 'aint right. Lyin' 'aint right. My ma says it's a good idea to 'treat others as ya'd like to be treated,' 'n I don' wanna be lied to."

"Doesn't matter. I won anyways."

"Yeah, butcha _lied._" The boy looked up to him with a seriousness in those big blue eyes that he'd failed to see in the stare of any other child.

"I'll repent later."

Even though the words were spoken in heavy sarcasm, the kid didn't seem to register this. He nodded firmly, smiling some as he returned to happily skipping down the road.

"So whatcha gonna buy with all yer fancy cash, now?"

"I don't know. I might try and instigate some rapid growth."

He received a blank stare as the kid turned in confusion.

"I might just go and bet it again," he translated.

"Oh. You sure thassa good idea, on account of you losin' everythin' you just won 'n all?"

"High risk means high rewards."

The kid shrugged, then carried on skipping into the lot, turning every once in a while to accentuate his pointless excitement.

When Nick had reached his room, he expected the boy to return to his own. Instead, he was a little annoyed to find the kid staring up at him, standing just behind him and a little too close.

As if understanding his unamused stare, the kid smiled and shrugged.

"I still 'aint sleepy."

"That's not my problem. Get lost."

"Well, actually..." There was a pause after the mischievous tone as the boy turned, folded his arms behind his back and wandered aimlessly out into the lot. "It is kinda yer problem now. After all, all them folks saw me, an underage kid, in the bar witchu..." Nick's eyes narrowed further, their harsh green colour focusing with intensity on the kid. He had a feeling he'd been played. "...An' when Ma wakes up tomorra an' finds I've gone out 'cause I couldn't sleep, she's gonna start askin' around, 'n sooner or later folks are gonna point atchu 'cause they saw me with you last...'N what're ya gonna tell 'em? That you sent a lil' kid out into the night on 'is own?"

"You little shit."

The boy just smiled.

Nick ran a hand through his hair and let loose a frustrated sigh. He stepped away from his door and plopped down on the curb, fixing the kid with a glare. Accepting this as an invitation, the boy let out a whoop and scurried over to plop down beside his new found hero. For a while, the kid was content to stare into the sky and at the stars, quietly trying to pick out constillations he recognized.

The man beside him was just as content to sit and seeth in silence, eventually reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes (another congratulatory gift from a busty blonde). He propped one between his lips and lit it, the annoyance for the kid gradually going up in the smoke he exhaled into silence.

Until the kid spoke again, that is.

"Smokin's bad fer you, ya know."

"No, really?"

He didn't catch on to the sarcasm.

"Uh-huh, Ma says it fills up yer lungs with tar 'n stuff, 'n makes it hard to breathe. She calls 'em cancer sticks."

"Fascinating."

"I 'aint never gonna smoke."

"How noble of you."

"I know, righ'? But I wanna be big an' strong when I grow up, 'n I won't be at my best if my lungs are all gunked up, y'know?"

Nick grunted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing and not really paying attention.

"I reckon when I get as big as you, I'll be twice as strong an' three times as healthy!"

"Right, right."

"How old are ya, anyways? Ya don't look _that_ old."

"Whatever gave you the impression that I was old?" Nick flicked his stare down to the kid, only to find those bright blue eyes fixed on him.

"Well, you're wearin' one of 'em fancy suits like those old Tycoon-folk."

"I like suits."

"'N yer hair was all swept back in the bar, like 'em fancy old Tycoon-folk."

"I prefer not to have a mop on my head." He gave the boy a meaningful shove.

"An' you were gamblin' with a lot o' money, big numbers," he paused, then muttered under his breath: "even if you was lyin'." He stopped his reasoning here, instead staring up at the man with wide eyes, awaiting an answer to his previous question.

"I'm twenty-three."

"Shoot. I would'a said like, twenty or summin'"

"Because you're around a lot of twenty-year-olds and would know."

The boy shrugged.

"Wassyer name?"

"Nick." The man took a extra long drag off his cigarette, choosing not to return the question. He figured he didn't need to.

"Oh, thassa cool name. M'names Ellis. Though some people call me El, even though I prefer Ellis 'cause El kinda sounds like a girl's name."

"Suits you," commented Nick idly, gaze back up on the sky so he wouldn't have to see the pout he was given. Instead of arguing, Ellis turned his gaze to the sky too, hoping to see what his elder did.

"You 'aint from around here, are ya?"

"What gave you that impression?"

"Well, yer accent for starters. Plus, you don't got a hint of southerness 'bout you."

"I don't have an accent."

"Yeah, ya do."

"No, kid, _you_ have the accent here, not me."

"No, no. Where I come from, everyone talks like me, it's just how we talk, it 'aint no accent."

"Right, and where is that?"

"Savannah."

"Figures." He paused, tasting the smoke on his tongue before exhaling. "What're you doing out here? Tallahassee isn't exactly commuting distance from there."

"Commutin'? Naw, we 'aint commutin'." The kid lowered his stare to the gravel lot below their feet, giving a particularly large stone a good kick. "It's jus' my Pa and Ma have been fightin' a lot lately. Ma said she needed some space, had to get her head on straight, but she dinn't wanna leave me behind, so we got in 'er car an' drove. Dunno where we're goin', but I reckon we'll land back in Savannah sooner or later."

"I see."

"What 'bout you? Yer not from around here," Ellis reminded him.

"Heading to Miami."

"What for?"

"Dunno."

"Cool! So it's like a road trip?"

"Sure."

"Thass cool, we're both on road trips!"

"That's wonderful."

"I know, 'aint it?" The kid smiled brightly, either not understanding or choosing to ignore the sarcasm in his elder's voice. Once again, those bright eyes were on the stars that seemed to pale in comparison to the life behind the boy's stare.

"They say the stars are brighter up north, issit true?"

"I wouldn't know, kid. I'm not one for stargazing."

"Oh, okay. But if I was up north, I would be."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's a waste of time to stare at balls of gas that are millions of miles away?"

"Well, I don't look at 'em that way. They're juss stars, y'see. They're pretty to look at. My ma 'n I used to lie in the back yard all the time 'n see if we could spot any new ones that we hadn't seen before."

"Sounds difficult."

"Oh it was, 'n this one time, I invited my buddy Keith over to gaze with us, 'n he got the crazy notion that he could somehow hang a star in the sky if he launched a flamin' ball of paper high enough. He didn't set much paper on fire, juss 'is hands, 'n he burnt off his eyebrows an' all the hair on his arms."

"And you're how old?"

"Eleven-an'-a-half," Ellis reminded him firmly, before grinning ceaselessly into the sky.

* * *

They stayed that way for quite a while, Ellis launching into pointless stories about his life at home, Nick occasionally putting in his two cents or a sarcastic quip. They sat side by side on the curb, eyes more often on the sky than each other. It must've been at least an hour after they first sat down that Ellis's story was interrupted by a large, gaping yawn.

"Tired?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Liar."

"Well, I dun wanna sleep."

"Why not?"

"'Cause that'd mean tomorra would get here sooner."

"And why is that a bad thing?" Nick tore his gaze from the sky, his cigarette long since crushed into the ground. He'd spared himself the kid's complaints and made that his only light of the hour.

"'Cause it means we gotta keep goin'."

"...And?"

"It means I lose out on a cool, older friend."

"We aren't friends, kid."

"'Aint we? We been talkin' for a whole hour!"

"No, _you've _been 'talkin' for a whole hour.'" He mimicked the kid's accent, raising his voice a few pitches to match that of Ellis's. "I've been sitting here waiting for you to pass out or something.

"So we 'aint friends?"

"You haven't done anything to earn my friendship."

Ellis's face fell.

"Oh...I dinn't know you had to earn friendship..." He sounded as if he was about to launch into a protest, but his jaws opened wide in a loud, long yawn.

"That's it, kid, go to bed."

"Will you be my friend if I do?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Ellis frowned, eyebrows arching upwards as he tried to form a pleading expression on a childish face. The result was something of a pout that would've been cute, but it was more annoying to the man who just wanted to get some sleep. He was planning on leaving early, before any local audience members could question the honesty of his dealings that night.

Seeing an easy way out of this, Nick took it.

"But I'll consider it, if you'll get some sleep."

That was all it took.

The boy shot to his feet, letting out another cheer, only to be interrupted by a third yawn. As if to maximize whatever positive results he could draw out of the man's 'thoughts' on becoming friends with him, Ellis bid him a hasty goodnight and all but sprinted to the door, accidentally slamming it behind him.

Nick shook his head with a grunt, small smile playing at his lips as he stood. The kid was amusing, if anything. Full of life.

With the past hour's conversation replaying in his head, the man retired into his own room, sluggishly donned a t-shirt and forgoing pants in favour of sleeping in his boxers, then collapsed onto the bed. The entire, somewhat soothing hour had readied his mind for a quick retreat into unconsciousness. He was asleep within the minute.

And awoken hours later by the beeping of the motel clock beside him. Right. Early start.

He forced himself to sit up, untangling himself from his covers and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Considering his late bed-time, he expected to be exhausted. Instead, he felt awake and well-rested. He wasn't sure if it was simply a good night's sleep, the money from last night's win, the kid's infectious enthusiasm from earlier in the morning or a combination of all three, but he felt better than he had in days.

He instantly set about packing his stuff, ensuring his now full wallet was tucked firmly in his back pocket when he donned his final clean suit. He hadn't brought much there to start with, so packing was quick and simple. He was back outside in almost no time at all, greeting by the bright southern sun in his face.

"Shit!" A clang followed by the high-pitched voice hurried along the pace at which his eyes were adjusting to the light. His head turned left, to where his car was parked in the lot. He instantly frowned.

The hood of his contour was propped up, a red toolbox on the walkway in front of it. What alarmed him the most, however, was the pair of short, jean-clad legs flailing in the air, protruding from the engine of his car. He briskly strode over to it, dropping his suitcase by the door and moving around to the front. He reached in, firmly gripped the hips that those kicking legs were fastened to, then pulled the alien object from the inner works of his vehicle.

He practically dropped Ellis onto the pavement, though the kid caught himself on his feet.

"Thanks, man." He wiped his hands off on the baggy material of his jeans, the brown sweater tied around his waist suffering a similar fate. The man noticed that the yellow t-shirt hadn't been spared the greasy treatment either. He grimaced.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Nick glared down at the kid, who smiled cheerfully and ruffled his messy hair. A blush coloured the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.

"Well...I was juss'..." His explanation was slow and choppy and Nick didn't have the patience to wait for it. His car was already messed up enough. He didn't need some prepubescent moron slithering around in the already fragile contents of what lay under the hood.

"You were 'juss' messing up my car!"

"Well, it was already purdy messed up as it was, y'know..."

Nick shut his mouth. Ellis and his mother had arrived after he did. How did he know about the rattle?

At his silence, the boy seemed to regain some of his confidence.

"My Pa loves cars, he taught me everythin' he knows, says when I git older he's gonna help me open my own place."

"That doesn't explain why you felt the need to _dive_ into _my_ car."

"Well, I saw it, 'n was like, 'wow, that there's a piece of shit, I reckon it must be Nick's, seein' as it's the only other car in the lot.' 'N when I went to talk to Mary in the lobby, she said that yer car was makin' a righ'-awful noise when you pulled in, so I thought I'd take a look at it."

"Why?"

Ellis shrugged.

"I like ta fix cars."

The man leaned back, running a hand through his dark hair with another sigh.

"An'...uhm..." Nick flicked his gaze down to Ellis, who was sheepishly scuffing at the pavement with his shoe. "When I was leanin' over...I kinda fell in an' dropped my wrench...could you...maybe...?" He hopefully glanced down into the hood. Nick sighed and peered in, finding no such tool in immediate sight.

"Where?"

"Juss in there, if I could only..." He trailed off again. This time, he understood what the hick was asking. He bent down, grabbed the kid by the waist and lifted him over the side of the hood. Giggling madly, the boy let his hands vanish into the nameless components of Nick's car. There was a clank, several odd clicks, all the while suspended by the firm grip around his waist. Finally, the boy gave a holler.

Nick pulled the boy back out, setting him on the pavement. Ellis threw his wrench back into the tool box. Nick was tempted to further reprimand the boy for messing around with _his_ property. After a moment's thought, he decided he was just eager to get out of here and really didn't care if his shit-car had gotten any worse. He had the money to fix it now anyways.

"So, did you mess it up any more?"

"On the contrary, start it up, man!" Ellis had to walk around to the side of the car to take down the rod that held the hood up. He then had to try quite hard to lower the hood without crushing his small, grease-stained fingers between the metal. When the hood was down, he pulled a white rag out of his back pocket and wiped his small hands off before tossing it into the box.

Nick decided to humor the boy, getting into the driver's seat and turning the ignition. To his surprise, the car instantly roared to life. No rattling, no odd clunking noises. Just the quiet purr of an old engine running just as it should.

"Shit, runs better than I thought it would!" Ellis cheered from outside the car, leaping into the air, spinning as he did so. Nick stared baffled down the dashboard for some time, before shaking his head to clear it.

"What the hell did you do to it, and where did you get that mouth on you?" He was referring not only to the running of his car, but the three consecutive swear words he'd heard the kid shamelessly spew out since he'd left his room.

"From you, duh." Ellis didn't seem too bothered by the overuse of this new word, instead going on to describe his success. "Well, the rattlin' was juss a loose part, 'n when I was in there I saw a few other loose bolts 'n whatnot, and decided seein' as I was down there anyways, I might as well tighten' 'em up and reattach some of the stuff."

Nick hummed throughtfully, leaving his car running as he climbed out and shut the door.

"Thanks, kid." He said, ruffling the boy's hair as he moved towards the lobby to check out. He let the kid lean in through the driver's seat window to inspect the interior of the car, pretending not to notice as he climbed right in.

Through the window, of course.

* * *

"Good morning, sir." Said the chubby girl, looking rightly exhausted from a full night's shift. "Checking out early?"

"Yes, please."

"One moment please," she began to type slowly into her computer, and Nick's eyes wandered to the little store they had behind the counter. Several baseball hats hung from the wall behind the girl, "we can give you a five-dollar return for an early departure, if you'd like."

"Actually..."

* * *

When Nick reemerged from the lobby building, his hands were stuffed in his pockets. He only took them out to open the door and climb into the driver's seat. He wasn't all that surprised to find Ellis seated in the passenger seat, his belt already done up.

"You're not coming with me."

"D'aaaaw, shucks."

Nick chuckled, shaking his head at the kid's endless spirit.

"However, thank you for fixing this."

"Shoot, you already said thanks."

"You're right, I did, and I don't say it often, so please don't remind me again."

Ellis nodded.

"Now, I'm afraid I can't pay you, as that would make this child labour." He wasn't surprised to see that Ellis's grin hadn't changed. He wasn't expecting to be paid, anyways. He was just doing a good deed because that was the kind of person he was. "So, instead, you can have this." He withdrew the folded cap from his pocket, then pulled it firmly over the kid's head, happy to find it was a decent fit for the first wear.

It was nothing more than a blue-and-white cap with a meaningless white logo on the front, but it was his way of rewarding the kid for a job well done. It seemed to mean a whole lot more to the boy, however, whose face had lit up so much it might as well have been a neon sign for Vegas.

Plus, it helped to tame that mop of not-quite-curly hair.

"Wow, really? Ya got this fer me?" Ellis reached up to pull the hat off, examine it, then pull it back onto his head with a grin far too large for his face. He adjusted it once, and then again, pulling the brim over his eyes and then back up. He clearly liked the way it fit.

"There's no other mop-headed child who fixed my car around, so I'm going to assume I got it for you, yes."

"Shit, thanks a lot!"

Nick decided not to remind the boy about his foul mouth. Instead, he threw the car into reverse and stepped on the gas, turning just in time to start doing backwards doughnuts in the lot. Ellis had to firmly brace himself with the armrest and the door to stop himself from sliding around in his seat. He was laughing regardless, the hat having fallen over his eyes.

Eventually, Nick applied the brakes and had the car come to a stop. Ellis's body still moved in a circular motion as he pulled his hat back up and out of his eyes, still erupting with an occaisonal chuckle as he fought the dizziness.

"Alright, that's your free ride. Out." Nick patiently waited as the kid obediently clambered out of the car. He shut the door behind him, then stuck his head in through the open window.

"Wait, does this mean we're friends now?"

The hopeful smile on the boy's face was so wide, the man found himself unable to say no.

"I suppose it does, Ellis."

"Awesome!" The kid pumped his fist in accomplishment, despite the fact that it was unlikely he'd ever see the man again.

It was still an accomplishment none the less.

"Take care of yourself, Ellis." Nick began to roll forward as the kid backed away from the passenger side.

"You too, Nick! See you later!"

Although he probably wouldn't.

Ellis chased the car out to the road, though stopped from running after it as the contour accelerated onto the highway. He simply waved high and quickly above his head in the dust of the car's tires until the little black vehicle had vanished over the horizon.

* * *

**Crackfics amuse me.**

**So here's one of my own. The concept of pre-apocalypseness had been sitting in my head for ages, but I have to credit stormgale's 'Young Ellis' work as something that kicked me into finally writing it down. Go check it out on deviantart. It's so freaking adorable. Anyways, that's all I have to say for now. Please review. Writing is a lonely business D:**

**Thanks for reading this far!**

**Toodles~**

**Shmee**

**UPDATE: I will be continuing this. However, I do still REALLY prefer it as a one shot, so uhm. If you, like me, prefer this as a one-shot, please ignore any further alerts for this. If not, ANTICIPATE WITH ME :D**


	2. Chapter 2

It was the shift of weight that was not his own that awoke him.

He started his venture back to consciousness with a content feeling that sat in his chest and told him he'd slept _extremely_ well. There was nothing that could compare to waking up peacefully to the timing of his internal clock, instead of the blaring of the alarm or the shouts of another. He shifted, trying to roll over, only to find something in his way.

Gradually, Nick opened his eyes.

And promptly grinned wolfishly.

He was staring directly into the chest of a well-endowed woman. Unable to swallow a proud snicker, he pushed himself up on his palms, bending at the waist to sit upright in the large, white-sheeted bed. Rubbing absently at an eye with his left hand, he took a moment to study the room. Clothes were strewn around the place, an empty bottle of wine perched royally on the vanity which also played host to a suit jacket strewn over the mirror.

Idly, he counted the wine glasses that sat on the silver platter.

One, two, three.

Pausing, he glanced back down to the bed, on his other side. Snuggled under the blankets that wrapped another Delicious figure slept a smaller woman, her dark hair spilling wildly onto the pillow, though only a small nose stuck out from under her blankets.

Unable to resist, Nick grinned again to himself, letting his mind wander in order to recollect the events of the previous night. Regardless of what came, he knew whatever it was had to be brilliant for him to have the luck to wake up next to not one, but _two _beautiful women.

Right, right. He'd won a poker game. Incredibly high-stakes, he remembered. Hundreds of thousands of dollars had been on the line, and he'd somehow been able to pull most of it his way. Of course he'd celebrated his win with a drink, only to pick up two young, blue-eyed admirers.

He didn't know why the detail of their eye colour stuck out the most, he usually didn't have the patience to pay attention to the small details of others unless he was planning to use them for his own gain. Which at the time, he kind of was, but he still couldn't fathom why their eye colour had stood out, of all things, when there was certainly better things he could devote his attention to.

After all, these two women had just been eager to please the talented, attractive young man who obviously had a very, very fat wallet.

He scooted forward, inching as gently as he could off the bed as not to awake the slumbering beauties flanking him. When his feet were firmly on the floor, he was able to push himself upright and stretch in silence.

Perhaps they'd hoped to earn a bit of a share in that money, considering they knew him to have so much after witnessing the game. How those eyes had flashed, fixed on him, wandering lower every few moments to subtly hint at something they were terrible at hinting at. Still, he was unable to erase the startling blue eyes from his mind, expecting to see two pairs.

Oddly, only one stood out in complete clarity.

He cast his gaze down to the bed, letting it rest once on the blonde, then at the lump of white sheets that he knew to be the brunette. The eyes in his mind's vision didn't seem to fall with the memory of either of these two ladies.

With a shrug, he proceeded towards the vanity to retreive his jacket before starting on the task of finding his pants.

The last three months had been very good to him.

After the first win in Tallahassee, Nick managed to _keep_ on winning. It had started in a poker tournament that had quickly escalated into something serious and high-risk, then gradually the bets and games he made and played simply seemed to grow along with his wealth.

Of course, not all income was earned honestly. The young man had quickly learned the advantages to manipulating people, reading their moves before they make them and trying to change them to fit his own desires. Attention to detail in games and a quick reaction time made the talent of counting cards useful. There was also always the opportunity to alleviate the naive of their greens, which he found himself doing as he shifted through one of the women's wallets and pocketed a few twenties

He grabbed his keys off the desk, scanning the room to make sure he was leaving nothing more than his partners behind. When he was satisfied he had everything, he quietly stepped out and into the hall. It was mid-morning, so there were soft murmurs that echoed along the walls of the stylish hotel, but otherwise it was still quiet.

Nick opted for the stairs as he started to plan the coming day out in his head. He would fix himself up once he reached his car, which still held most of his belongings. He didn't have to worry about checking out, as he'd used some poor sap's card and identity to book one of the more expensive suites. By the time anyone thought to ask the man about his check-out, he would be long gone.

His first plan was to get across San Fransisco. He knew there was a poker tournament being hosted out of a wealthy business, meant for associates and CEOs to bet high numbers and 'unwind' after a long day. He'd get himself into that pot not a problem. The problem would be not losing money to people who were quite possibly as untrustworthy and manipulative as he was – people who probably had years and years of experience on him.

As for burning the day away until that time, he knew he could check into a smaller hotel using his own identity, unpack there for a few days and then set on a little sightseeing. Or at least, find himself a nice bar, or something to occupy the day until the game.

Slipping out the doors and into the lot, Nick instantly spotted his car in the crowd of vehicles. The Ford Contour was old news. As soon as he'd made enough, he'd sold the peice of junk and set about buying himself something that suited his new lifestyle far better: A shining, silver Corvette, almost right off the lot.

It had put quite the dent on his account, but it had been well worth it. The thing suited his love of high-class possesions, ran well and attracted all the right attention. When he preferred to lie low for the evening, he found it more convenient to just take a cab.

Sliding into his car now, however, reminded the young man just how much the city's taxis paled in comparison.

He adjusted the mirror, fixing the minor case of bed-head he was cursed with by quickly swiping a comb through his hair, not quite feeling up to completely putting himself together yet. He would adjust his appearance to his liking when he settled into his next room – a room he planned to keep for a little longer than a night.

* * *

Crossing the city through the traffic had taken much longer than expected. Aggravated, Nick had watched the hours tick away on his digital clock. It was almost three o'clock when he'd pulled into a small hotel by the ocean, growling about traffic and worn out from just about five hours of driving while making barely any progress at all.

He'd unconsciously snarled his booking information to the intimidated young clerk at the desk, dragged himself and his suitcase up to his room and gratefully collapsed onto the comfortable queen-sized bed. He wouldn't let himself sleep the day away, but lying face-down in the comforting mattress was a welcome relief to the build-up of stress driving had pressed on his brain.

The young man brought himself back into focus a quarter-hour later with a long sigh. He pushed himself off the bed, placing his suitcase there instead to unpack.

The first thing he removed -and the only thing he planned to remove for the time being- was a white suit, the one he planned to adorn for the day. He pulled off the darker one from the previous evening, moving to replace it with the white outfit with slow, precise moments.

He chose to leave the white jacket undone for the time being, letting the blue undershirt steal a bit of focus in the lack of colour. He set about to combing his hair, pulling some back and choosing not to be particular about the few strands that hung over his forehead.

When he was more or less satisfied with his appearance, he grabbed the keys to his room and his car and headed out. This time, he didn't plan to take the Corvette out. He was going to walk, get some fresh air, wake himself up and cool himself off.

This time, he made a point to smile at the young woman operating the front desk as he passed it, even muttering a quiet 'good day,' to her. She looked at him curiously a moment before smiling in and returning the greeting in a polite tone. Obviously, she preferred this more cheerful-looking man to the grumpy mess that had stormed into the hotel just minutes earlier.

He headed out the door, just barely hearing a voice call out behind him. However, he realized the voice was not directed at him, so he paid it little attention.

"S'cuse me, miss, I was jus' wonderin'..."

Nick never thought himself one for relaxing strolls by the water, unless there was a woman clinging to his arm appreciating a man for his knowledge of sentimental activities. However, walking along the road neighboring the Ocean certainly seemed to swallow up a vast majority of time. By the time he'd decided to turn around and start heading back the way he'd come, his feet had a very slight ache to them.

The sun had begun to dip towards the horizon when Nick noted an odd flash of colour through the thin crowd. Yellow, then blue, then white. The colour scheme belonged to someone's clothing, but that someone failed to have a tall enough build to be seen through the crowd.

He slowed his pace to narrow his eyes as the figure in the midst of the group got closer. Eventually, he could clearly glimpse a white-and-blue hat through a gap. The colour brought back a distant, near-forgotten memory, one that prompted him to chuckle absently as it replayed in his mind's eye.

The distraction caused him to collide with someone, though he wasn't moving fast enough for the damage to be great or embarrassing. He sucked in a breath to distractedly apologize, only to realize that despite having bumped into another being, he hadn't really felt much of a counter-force. Instead, he found himself looking down into startled blue eyes, their owner being the one who had really been forced back by the contact.

"Hey!" The eyes lit up suddenly, "I thought it was you!" A wide grin adorned the youthful face. "I though' maybe I wuz goin' a lil' crazy when I saw ya earlier! Jus' my luck to walk inta ya!"

Nick frowned, making no attempt to hide the sour expression. Feeling his heart skip a beat in his chest, his eyes quickly flitted about the crowd. No sign of the short, thin woman. He breathed in again, this time to steady the rapid thumps of his alarmed heart, unable to completely understand why this encounter had made him so uneasy.

"Right...Sorry about that." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Nick stepped around the shorter figure and went to continue on his way. While he was allowed to advance, the patter of footsteps told him that he was being followed.

"Hey, don't go! Don'tchu remember me?" He felt the boy's hand brush against his arm lightly. Nick allowed himself to stop, sigh, then turn to face the shorter being with that frown still in place. "It's Ellis, remember?"

The young man stared for a long while. Yes, he did remember. He remembered sitting out in front of a crap motel for hours listening to some kid blabber on endlessly. He remembered the kid falling into the hood of his car and somehow miraculously finding a cure for all the vehicle's ailments. He also remembered buying the kid a hat in order to thank him for the job he'd done, and wasn't sure how to react to seeing the exact same hat still perched over a head of messy light brown hair.

Understanding that he was being studied, the hick kid put on a wide smile.

"No," Nick said curtly, giving the boy a bit of a shrug and carrying on his way, expecting to leave it at that. He wasn't going to have the kid worm his way into a heart-to-heart story time again. He didn't need that kind of a time-killer, not in this lifetime.

However, Ellis seemed to be unable to accept this.

"I fixed yer car! The Contour thin'? Made a righ-awful noise b'fore I fixed it, y'know?" The boy continued to try and follow the man, who had sped up his pace considerably in hopes to lose his little shadow. Ellis hobbled along awkwardly on Nick's heels, trying to keep in step with him without getting in anyone else's way.

"I don't drive a Contour," the man admitted in honesty, hoping the confusion might deter the kid from harassing him any further.

"Yeah butcha did, dinn'tcha? I fixed it!" Ellis's insistant remarks were almost as annoying as the fact that he was following the older man. Again.

"I don't know what you're talking about kid, I think you've got the wrong guy."

"But I don'! I'd remember tha' fancy suit 'n stuff anywhere! I'd remember the guy who gave me this!" Both hands flew to his hat, which he held out in desperate attempt to earn so much as a glance from the man who kept his gaze firmly in the direction he was going. Even though Nick had heard the ring of anxiety in the kid's voice, he stuck to his insistent refusal.

Let someone else deal with the kid, this time. He wasn't getting sucked into another 'spend time with me' ploy.

"Never seen it before in my life."

Nick hadn't even looked at it, even though he knew what it was.

"I never forget a friend, _Nick_, that just 'aint right." Ellis made a point to emphasize the man's name.

"I wouldn't forget a friend." Nick delivered these lines with a deliberate sharpness to them. Thankfully, their meaning got across and the boy fell behind a little, no longer trying as hard to keep up with the long strides of the young man. The conman barely saw the kid's hopeful expression die away.

Why here? What on earth was the kid doing in San Fransisco, three months later, and without his mother in sight?

Nick was content enough to stubbornly keep walking and curiously ponder the things on his mind, choosing not to just ask the kid himself. He thought after subtly putting the kid down, he'd give up and go to wherever he was supposed to be. Instead, the kid followed behind him, looking crestfallen but refusing to leave.

He was honestly a little impressed when the kid kept up for a while. Nick knew his hotel wasn't all that far now. The kid had also managed to stay silent: silent enough to make the man's curiosity become almost unbearable. Without looking back, Nick spoke.

"Where's your mom, kid?"

Ellis didn't respond right away. In fact, it seemed as if the boy deliberately paused for a long while, as if he was avoiding the question. Eventually, he answered with a sigh.

"Savannah."

Nick's heart leaped into his throat, followed by an unfamiliar feeling of guilt. He tried to simply swallow it down and ignore it, only to find that he felt mildly at fault for the boy's response. Again, he couldn't exactly explain why he felt this way, only that it was not a pleasant feeling. Instead of assuming the worst, he let his mind jump to the next logical conclusion.

"Alright, so where's your father staying?" Nick let his mind form the answer that had yet to be given. Oh, he's just in a nearby hotel. Ellis got bored and decided to go wandering, as he gets lonely when he's bored, he was out looking for a friendly enough face to talk to. Of course he'd had the misfortune to run into Nick. No, wait. _Nick_ had the misfortune of running into the _kid_.

Ellis didn't respond at all this time, quietly keeping in step behind the young man. Eventually, Nick wanted his answer confirmed. He stopped suddenly, satisfied when he felt the small thump of Ellis colliding with him a second time. The boy bounced back, kept his balance and shook himself loose.

"Ellis?" This time, Nick turned, please to see those blue eyes up and on him, wide and traced with just a hint of...fear? "Where is your father?"

The boy bit his lip and shrugged, lowering his head in shame. The brim of his hat hid his face perfectly.

"I dunno..." He whispered.

All the alarms went off in Nick's head.

Why him? Why here? What were the odds that this stupid kid would be in San Fransisco, in the exact same block as he was? Why couldn't he have been somewhere else, been shoved on someone else as his problem? He didn't have the time to deal with this kid. He had a life now, he had things to do that couldn't be put on hold for some brat.

Shoving these thoughts down, Nick realized Ellis's wide eyes were on his face, searching for some response behind that naturally guarded expression.

"Do you remember what hotel he was in?"

Ellis shrugged.

"The number?"

No response.

"Can you at least call your goddamned mother?"

Ellis's gaze finally hit the floor, again choosing not to respond to the abrupt demand. Nick threw up his hands in exasperation and turned, storming off. If the boy didn't want to answer him, the man didn't want to help. It was as simple as that.

As the boy moved to follow, Nick surprised himself by turning and snarling quite angrily at the child.

"_Don't_follow me," he hissed, "you're not my problem. Go bother someone else." Without another glance at the boy, he turned and marched off, only cooling himself down after he'd put some distance between himself and the southern child. Nick had put all his might in not looking back, but had ultimately been unable to avoid casting a quick sweep over his shoulder. He put even more effort into ignoring the fact that the boy had taken to quietly following him again, at a distance.

He pretended not to notice the tears, either.

He should've been helping the boy who was obviously lost, that's what any decent person would've done. But he wasn't a decent person. Maybe a year ago, he would've set aside his personality defects to help the kid, but not today. The kid wasn't his problem, let him find someone else to ask for help, someone who wasn't a poor role model, selfish or vain. He didn't consider asking the boy what was wrong, seeing as he was so easily driven to sadness and if memory served him correctly, the kid was a notorious optimist. He didn't consider the fact that maybe the boy was only latching to him because he was a familiar face in an unfamiliar place.

Not to mention, the odds of meeting in a place so large and so far from the child's home were extremely slim.

To Nick, it seemed like a cruel joke from the hands of fate.

To Ellis, it would've been like god sending him a guardian angel.

And now, Nick was so heavily aware, that the child's so-called 'Guardian Angel' was stalking away from the boy with no concern to whatever kind of trouble he could be in.

_It's not my problem._

He would just have to keep telling himself that, with every firm step he took. Let someone else deal with it, he had things to see, places to go, people to meet.

_Not my problem._

He would have to remind himself that the boy was better off finding more reliable assistance.

_Not._

He would have to remind himself that he was a bad person living a good life. Wealthy and content no matter the means he used to reach those ends, -

_My_

- the very last kind of person a good kid like Ellis should ever be around. Yeah, the kid was better off finding help from someone else. Someone better. Someone other than him.

_Problem._

He was really just a coward, afraid to deal with something unfamiliar.

* * *

On his way out to the taxi taking him to the night's game, Nick had to deliberately ignore the kid. Ellis had taken to sitting against the wall by the door, ignorant to the questioning stares of passerbys too busy to just ask why he was there. Nick pretended not to see the boy all the way to the taxi, though he felt those blue eyes burning holes into his back with every step he took.

The game was not one of his best.

Getting in hadn't been a problem. He'd the luck of being automatically assumed as the representative of an absent company. He was let in without too much of a fuss, seated around a large table and immediately served drinks by a curvy waitress. He'd taken it, but made sure to only sip at the beverage. It was better if people thought he was intoxicated, busying themselves with their own drinks.

It had started alright. He managed to clean out an older fellow of all his winnings in a hand he had a bit too much faith in. The man had sputtered, cursed, sworn to get even somehow and even turned to a fellow player to ask to borrow some money to win his own back. Nick had quietly watched as the man was refused. He rose in a rage, spewing curses at the younger, white-suited man and shaking a finger in his direction. He finally dismissed himself from the display, angrily punching numbers into his phone.

"Sore loser," someone had commented idly out loud, earning a ripple of chuckles from the remaining players. The game had resumed.

Nick had the wisdom to notice he was off his game after losing a bet he'd thought he had won, and then another one immediately after. He promptly set about earning back what he could of the winnings he'd lost, finding it was extremely hard to focus on even that task.

His mind kept wandering, a look of distress slipping over that usual unreadable mask.

Those bright blue eyes, alive with a vibrant sadness, would flicker across his vision. The boy's voice would come from behind him, loud and distressed. Then, following the child's desperate pleas for help in the back of the man's voice, Nick could hear his own voice: cold, bitter and harsh.

"_You're not my problem! Go bother someone else!"_

The young man let out a long sigh, finally setting his cards on the table, recognizing his failure when he saw it.

"Fold. I think I will call it a night boys, sorry. I'm not exactly on the game."

There were a few mumbles from around the table, and an elderly man across the table bobbed his head in a nod.

"You seem a little out of it, kid, I hope your boss won't mind the lack of progress." The man grinned and chuckled.

"I'm sure whatever I lost will come out of my paycheque anyways." Nick gave the older man a charming smile and chuckled through the joke. However, the back of his mind was rapidly doing calculations of the games he'd played.

He hadn't lost much.

Contrariwise, he hadn't earned much, either.

He rose, collected his winnings and bid the players goodnight. Stepping out of the rented out hall, he flagged a taxi down in the street, jogging to catch up to it and ducking into the seat.

"Oceanside Hotel," he said simply, disregarding the use of manners. The driver nodded absently, beginning to carry off in that direction.

He watched the lights out the window as they drove, mind on anywhere but where they were going. That god damned kid had ruined his game, and was probably _still_ sitting alone out in front of his hotel, paying no attention to the dangers of being out in a city like San Fransisco after dark.

The taxi pulled up to the hotel drive and Nick quietly paid the man and exited the vehicle without so much as a thank you or a glance behind him. He didn't dwell on his poor display of manners, as his mind was on other things. He also had a feeling the driver wouldn't mind, considering Nick's unusually generous tip.

As the conman headed up to the front door, he wasn't sure how to react at seeing the space where the boy had been earlier empty. He looked up and down the street, half of him expecting to see the kid sprawled out against the wall, having just moved to get out of the way or something.

No sign of him.

He headed through the doors and straight to the clerk instead of the stairs to his room. The man reading a magazine there looked up, stashed the item under his desk and straightened in his seat as the suited individual approached.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Yes, I was wondering, have you seen a brat around here? About this high?" He held his hand up to where he guessed the boy's height to be, a bit above his own waist.

The man gave him an odd stare, obviously a bit curious about the man's choice of words.

"He's the kid of a friend of mine, who wandered off," the lie slipped off his tongue all too easily. "He's always wearing this hat, blue and white, on his head? Talks with a really heavy southern accent?"

The clerk's face suddenly lit up.

"Oh, Ellis!"

Nick drew in a sharp breath of relief.

"That's the kid, how do you know him?"

"He was sitting outside for a while, but then decided to come in when it started to cool down. He said he'd gotten lonely and wanted someone to talk to, so I let him sit back here and help me out a little. Short, stocky kid, right? Really friendly. He left not too long ago, saying that he was going out to look for his friend."

"Did you see which way he went?"

The man pointed to the left.

"Thank you."

Nick turned and exited once more, this time hardly hesitating as he turned to head down the road. He was only walking for about five minutes when he heard a familiar shouting.

"S'just a bit of a leak!" The voice was coming from a fenced-in parking lot just a little ways ahead. "I think Ikin fix it with a bit o' tape 'till you can get it to summun with the proper tools 'n shit." The voice was an octave or so higher than that of a man's, heavily drenched in a southern accent and a little too loud for the hushed soundtrack of the city.

Nick picked up his pace, planning to turn around the corner and give the kid a what for, until he heard a second voice cut through the night.

"That's cool, kid, do what you can!"

Then, the voice quieted to a mumble.

Nick slowed considerably, pressing against the wooden material of the fence as he approached the opening, being careful not to make himself known to the owner of the second voice, and the third who seemed to be responding as well.

As he neared, the mumbling became clearer.

"...Kid's good."

"Shit, the kid's insane, didn't even realize that was leaking. I could barely smell it with my head halfway in the engine, dunno how he did."

"He's talented."

"No shit, Sherlock."

A pause.

"Think we can make some money off of him?"

"Without a doubt, a kid that young would make us a fortune. He don't need to be paid to work, and I bet he could fix a lot of stuff without too much trouble. If not, he can learn."

"Plus, the kid's a looker, someone will pay for him if we get tired of him."

Nick felt something seize in his chest. He moved closer to the entrance. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard one of the men raise his voice again.

"Did you fix it, kid?"

"Sure did!"

The voices began to move, obviously towards where the car was. A hand slipped into Nick's jacket.

"Right, cool, how'd you like to come to the shop with us?"

"Aw, shoot, I woulda loved to! But 'm kinda waitin' for a friend to show."

"Ah, well maybe we can drop you off?"

"Naw, the place is just down the street."

A gruffer voice broke through, followed by a muffled thump and an abrupt cry.

"It wasn't really a question, kid."

"Ow, hey, whatchu doin'-?"

Nick heard the distinct click of a car door opening. At that moment, he chose to react. He stepped out into the parking lot, zeroing in on the vehicle and heading towards it. Ellis was being grabbed by the hair, his hat on the ground by his feet. A large man restrained him, while a smaller male held the door open for his companion to shove their hostage in. He was trying to do that very thing over Ellis's pushes and struggles, not noticing the newcomer until he cried out.

"Hey, Ellis!"

All three eyes snapped to him.

"Nick!"

"Who the hell is this prick?" The smaller man looked at him with a sneer of protest. He looked from the fine-suited young man to the scruffy looking boy in his companion's grasp. "Oh, is this yours?"

Nick tried to ignore the grin on the small one's face. The larger man simply frowned, glaring through narrowed eyes.

"Might as well be. Let him go, you morons, or I'll call the cops."

"I'll break your arm before you get the chance," the deep, gruff voice came from the larger man, who was dressed similar to his smaller companion, in jeans and a dark jacket.

"Try it," Nick snarled back, equally as menacing. The two men exchanged a glance, his intimidation act obviously working. The small one nodded, then the larger pulled Ellis away from the car, his second arm clamping tightly around the kid's arm.

"Alright, then I'll break his." As he spoke, the larger man tightened his grip and gave a little twist, eliciting a cry of pain from the small figure in his grasp.

"Ah, tha' shit hurts!"

Nick was caught in a stalemate, hand still tucked in his jacket as if he was considering removing his phone. He'd frozen as soon as the kid had cried out, noticing then that blood leaked from the corner of the boy's mouth. At the sight of this, he took in a deep breath. He'd acted irrationally first. He needed to be calm and cool, to manipulate these thugs like he would anyone else.

"Alright, alright. Fair enough," the smooth-talking conman lifted his free hand in surrender, voice relaxed as he switched into a mode for negotiation. "Maybe we can work this out with less violence?"

The two exchanged another look before the smaller one spoke slowly.

"Go on..."

"You're hoping to get money out of him, right? A Ransom, child labour, whatever else," Nick deliberately avoided extending that list, "just to get an extra penny or two in your pockets?"

"Perhaps."

"I'll pay for him."

The larger man snorted while the smaller one spoke.

"Yeah?" The mockery was clear in his voice as well. "How much?"

"How much are you looking for?"

"Thousands."

"I see..."

Nick paused, as if in thought. He fixed a solid green stare on the boy, specifically those bright eyes as he studied the raw panic swirling in them. His hand shifted in his jacket, slowly going to remove a brown leather wallet. The two men watched him as he reached inside, pulling a number of bills from the pocket, counting them in his hands. He paused after a moment, hummed in thought, then withdrew more.

"How's ten grand?" He folded the bills in his hand and held it up into the air. It was quite the bundle of cash, and the outermost bill was indeed a hundred.

"Shit, seriously?" Another look was exchanged, followed by hushed mutters he wasn't meant to hear. He tried to tell the boy to relax with a stare, but the kid didn't understand, taking the hesitance as a bad sign and squirming. His captor pulled harshly on his arm, then the smaller man spoke again. "Alright, meet in the middle."

Nick nodded, going to replace his wallet in the inner pocket of his jacket, his hand lingering there as he slowly stepped forward. The brute dragged the kid forwards at an equal pace, eyes on the money gripped between the man's fingers.

They met halfway, the larger man pushing the boy in front of him. Ellis thought this was his chance for freedom and tried to walk towards the suited man, instead finding the grip still bruisingly harsh on his arm.

"Hey, whatchu-"

"Shut up, Ellis." Nick barely looked at him as he spoke, instead locking eyes with the man who held out an expectant hand, expecting an 'at the same time' trade as well. The conman nodded, smiled slyly and began to extend his arm. At the same time, the hand that had been buried in his jacket from that point on withdrew as well, pointing a small silver magnum over the boy's shoulder and at the chest of the man who held him.

"What the-"

"Let the brat go and back up." The conman's smooth, easygoing tone had hardened into something cold and demanding. The man hesitated.

"But you-"

Safety was clicked off.

The larger man gritted his teeth, but slowly stepped back, easing his grip on the boy until it was released entirely. Nick nodded to the kid, who crossed the remaining distance in a second and pivoted to face his former captors, standing a little ways behind the man protecting him.

"Turn around and walk back to your car," instructed Nick, "place your hands on the hood. Both of you." Slowly, grudgingly, the pair moved to do as told, keeping their eyes on the weapon for as long as they could until they had to turn to follow the instructions they were given. The smaller one winced at an extra click of the safety that came from the gun, expecting to get shot.

"Don't move."

"Oh, wait a second!" Ellis suddenly scrambled forward, causing his senior to hiss in alarm as he slipped out of arm's reach. Nick didn't move, watching the kid through narrowed eyes and keeping the gun trained on the large man. The boy didn't get too close, only enough to grab his hat off his ground and pull it snugly over his head. He raced back to the man's side once he'd secured it, a smile on his face.

Nick then reached to place a firm hand on the boy's shoulder and backed up, dragging the child with him. He continued to silently retreat until they were out on the sidewalk. He called back to the pair with an even, honest voice.

"I know your plates, I know your faces. It'd be a good idea to get lost before I decide to put a notice up for child abduction."

One of the men growled from where he stood, but Nick didn't hang around to hear what he had to say. He clamped his hand down firmly on Ellis's shoulder, then steered the boy away from the gate, heading in the opposite direction of his hotel.

"Ow, hey, I though' you were stayin' at-"

"Shut up, Ellis."

"Okay."

Nick forcibly lead him down the street, pulling him into the nearest alley they could find, and travelling through it to start heading the other way on the parallel street. Through most of this, Ellis tried to stay quiet, only to find his curiosity was willing him to ask questions. He didn't seem to understand just how angry Nick was.

"Uh...Why are we goin' this way?"

"Because I want to go this way."

"Oh...Alrigh'"

He fell quiet again, trying to think of another question to fill the silence.

Nick, however, was trying to distract himself from the anger burning in his skull. He was so very mad. Mad at Ellis for being his naive self and helping two shady guys after dark in an empty lot, mad at the guys for being shady in the first place,

Mad at himself for ever thinking he could walk away from the kid in need of his help.

Mad that he was right back where he didn't want to be: tied down to someone.

Like his wife.

Ugh.

"Those two might decide to hold a grudge against you and I," Nick said at last, rounding the final corner that would take them back to his hotel. Ellis let his mouth form an understanding "O" and nodded, quietly falling in step behind the man when his shoulder was free of the tight grip.

He silently followed Nick up the walkway, but stopped at the bottom of the stairs, even as his elder companion continued to climb them.

The gambler realized he wasn't being followed when he reached the door. He rested his hand on the handle and turned to glance over his shoulder. His inquisitive stare was met by an equally curious, wide-eyed one. Suddenly, the man understood.

Ellis was asking permission.

He obviously hadn't forgotten his elder's earlier outburst.

"_Don't follow me – Go bother someone else."_

Of course, now he stood, quietly obeying that command as he stared up to the suited individual with innocent eyes. Suddenly, Nick felt as if the boy understood the kind of burden he was putting on his senior.

Nick had only ever met the boy one other time, and had only spent a couple of hours with him. He was in no way qualified to be any sort of guardian, putting his choice of lifestyle aside. Yet still, Ellis clung to him because in an unfamiliar city, he was a familiar face. The man still didn't know what exactly was going on with the child, only the fact that his mother was in Savannah, his father was somewhere and the boy was here, lost, most likely.

Of course, by choosing the young gambler, Ellis was putting a lot of pressure on his shoulders. But the way he saw it, who else could he go to? He didn't like being a hindrance to strangers, and Nick wasn't exactly a stranger. Besides...he...things were complicated. He wasn't sure if he could go back, if anyone was waiting for him...So he was putting the responsibility of his well being in a young man only a decade or so older than himself, one who barely knew him.

It was...unfortunate, for both of them. Nick, for dealing with a child so unlike him and deserving help far more reliable. Ellis, for having to ask so much out of someone he barely knew when he was trying so hard to be independent. It wasn't the ideal situation, but...

Ellis felt as if it was meant to happen.

Nick just felt as if it was a higher power's way of punishing his choice in lifestyle. A wake-up call, in a way. However, at least the kid understood a bit of the weight of the situation, or seemed to. Then again, the boy had been uncharacteristically silent about what kind of trouble he was in. Almost as if he were trying to spare his elder comrade any more inconveniences.

Humbled by the possibility of a wisdom beyond the boy's years, Nick sighed and pushed his way inside, holding the door open as he turned back.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

* * *

**Whoopwhoop.**

**Decided to continue, after much debate. Part of me just wanted to leave it as a one-shot, because that's what I felt like doing. But then again, another part of me was taking off with ideas for a full-blown story. So uhm. I decided to keep going, but those of you who just appreciate it as a one-shot should just continue to appreciate it that way. However, if you are reading this, please review and let me know what you think.**

**I promise the heaviness will go away within a chapter or two. This really is meant to be a fluff-fest cheerful...thing. With action and angst in there sparingly. Hoo-rah. **

**Thanks for reading this far!**

**Toodles~**

**Shmee.**


	3. Chapter 3

Unfortunately for Nick, Ellis had taken his invitation as permission to ramble on endlessly.

"Aw, thanks for helpin' me out, by the by, I dinn't think they were bad guys, y'know? They seemed nice enough."

"Really?" Nick's sarcastic voice ground out between the boy's rambles. The kid didn't seem to realize that even though Nick had allowed him to follow, that didn't mean he wasn't still angry. His knuckles were going white from gripping the railing so hard as they ascended the stairs.

"Really! I was jus' out walkin' 'n stuff and I heard one of 'em cursin' 'bout their car, so I wen' over ta take a look. A' first they told me I was better off findin' some toy cars ta fix 'n stuff, but then I told 'em I could smell summin' righ' awful comin' from the hood, 'n after one of 'em checked it out he agreed that summin' smelled wrong down there, so they let me take a look inside an'-"

"Ellis."

"Oh...you gonna tell me ta shut up now?"

"No, I'm going to tell you you're a dumb, naive child that needs to learn when to hold his tongue." Nick didn't look back to see the boy's face take on a look of surprise. He barely even slowed his ascent of the stairs.

"Bu' they jus' looked like they needed some help, an' they didn't seem like bad p-"

"I mean _now_, Ellis."

"Oh. Okay."

They continued to trudge up the stairs, Ellis's skip far less cheerful than it had been moments ago. Nick's room wasn't too high up, and the man preferred to take the stairs when he could. But this short climb seemed as if it could go on for hours. Ellis, ever eager to fill the silence, tentatively spoke again, far quieter.

"This reminds me o' this one time, me 'n my buddy Keith were out dirtbikin' in the back fields 'n we saw these guys there. We dinn't know what they were doin', but there was all this smokey-hazy stuff an' a real funny smell. They waved us over when we got close, so we figured we might as well go see what was makin' that weird smell, 'n it turns out the guy were lightin' these weird plants on fire an'"

"Ellis," Nick's voice once again came out sharp, impatient.

"...Yeah?"

"Now, I'm going to tell you to shut up."

"Okay."

They proceeded up the rest of the way in silence, Ellis managing to keep his tongue in check until they reached the man's floor. When they stepped out into the hall, the boy let a quiet question slip.

"Which one is yours?" The hesitance to speak was obvious in his voice.

Nick didn't reply, simply leading the way to his room and opening it with his key without so much as a grunt. He pushed his way inside, leaving the door open behind him for the boy, but heading towards the table without a word. He unloaded his pockets, then slipped his suit jacket off.

Ellis didn't share the same feeling of being at ease. He shuffled awkwardly at the door once he'd entered. He spent as much time as he could waste trying to slowly and silently shut the door and lock it behind them, memories of that harsh blow to the back of his head and the bruises on his arms fresh in his mind. He now understood why Nick had taken the long way. If the pair of them held a grudge, they would've tried to follow them.

Follow them here.

Ellis let out a long breath, unaware that in his reminiscing he had started holding it. When he turned back out to face the room, Nick had opened a window and was sitting on a cushioned chair beside it, smoke from his newly lit cigarette curving gracefully out the window. What was worse was that harsh green stare was fixed on the boy, making him feel awkward and out of place.

When the feeling of being unwelcome was almost too much to bear in silence, Nick spoke.

"Make yourself comfortable and get to sleep."

Seeing as Nick had spoke first, Ellis believed it alright to talk again.

"But I...uhm...there's only one bed there."

"Brilliant observation. You get it, being young and stupid."

Naturally concerned for others, Ellis's next question hung in the air even before he'd gotten around to asking it.

"But where are you gonna sleep?"

Nick shrugged, lazily flicking his gaze out the window. He said nothing more, though there was still a heaviness about the atmosphere. Ellis chose not to risk saying anything else, so he quietly removed his hat and shoes, placed then by the door, then untied his sweater from his waist. He shuffled about awkwardly for a moment, choosing to attempt to sleep in little more than jeans and a t-shirt. He climbed into the bed that was far larger than the one he had at home and snuggled into the covers, letting out a long sigh.

Nick rose and went to click out the light, plunging the room into darkness save for what flitted through the open window.

"You're telling me everything in the morning." Nick's voice was quiet and harsh in the dark, but said nothing more.

Ellis thought it would be hard to fall asleep with such a tense atmosphere, and still feeling guilty over being such a burden to his senior. However, the bed was warm and inviting and far more comfortable than anything he'd had in days. He didn't fight the heaviness of his eyelids and let himself drift away into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Ellis awoke, the beginnings of the gray light of dawn were beginning to shine through the window. He slowly pushed himself to his elbows, alertness quickly returning to him as he did so. He was naturally an early riser, after all.

Rubbing his eyes, he took a minute to study the room. Nothing was too badly out of place, aside from the figure hunched over at the table. At first, Ellis thought the man was still awake, sitting a silent vigil for something the boy would likely not understand. But no, he could see the steady rise and fall of the man's back. His thoughts were confirmed upon hearing soft snores come muffled through the man's arms, which were folded on the table for him to use as a pillow.

Ellis breathed a sigh of relief, glad the other had not kept himself up all night and had managed to find sleep without a bed. Slowly, he let himself fall back onto the mattress, wondering if he would be able to fall back asleep.

He wouldn't.

His mind had started racing.

Here he was, sleeping in a bed he did nothing to deserve. The man in the room had paid for this, had come to Ellis's rescue and taken him in for the night. The boy thought this would be a welcome feeling. Safety, security, a good night's rest...It was why he'd so desperately followed the man in the first place. He'd wanted a friend. After being on his own for far too long, he wanted someone he could trust, someone who could keep him safe and happy and help him. He thought that Nick could've been that person, especially after helping him escape those two thugs.

But instead of feeling safe, Ellis felt guilty.

Who was he to demand Nick, who was practically still a stranger, care for him like a guardian would? He barely knew the man, and his vivid memory was the only reason he'd recognized Nick in the first place. That night at the motel stood out, because compared to the boring nights of their road trip, that had been one of the highlights. But this was different. Ellis wasn't on a road trip with his mom this time.

He was alone. So very alone.

And honestly deserved it.

Slowly, Ellis pushed himself back upright, shuffling to the side of the bed so he could quietly hop out. His eyes were on the sleeping man at the table, not wanting to wake him.

He thought the help would've been welcome, but the boy only felt guilt for forcing the man into something he obviously didn't want to be a part of. The man was still young, only in his early twenties. He obviously had other things to worry about than Ellis. They were probably important things, pressing matters that having a kid around only complicated. That's why he was in a hotel, right? He was here for a reason.

Ellis was not.

As softly as he could manage, Ellis crossed the room to where his belongings lay, still by the door. He found his sweater had been neatly folded, probably the man's doing. Stifling a chuckle, the boy assumed the man was just naturally clean, considering his careful appearance. Even back in Tallahassee, where he'd had little more to his name that a few suits and a beaten-up car, Nick had looked professional, clean.

It was probably why the man at the bar had beleived Nick to be in possession of fifteen thousand dollars pre-game. Ellis certainly had.

Picking his sweater off the ground and pulling it over his shoulders, Ellis slipped on his runners next and reached down for his hat. He went to pull it firmly over his head, only to find his arms seized up before he could.

He stole a glance back to Nick, who returned the stare with a soft snore.

He'd loved this hat. He thought it suited him, and his mom had admitted that it did look good on him ('made him impossibly cuter,' she'd claimed.) His family members had even taken to buying him new hats whenever they went on a trip somewhere, but this one had always been his favourite. It had a story behind it, after all.

A story where it had been given to him for helping a stranger.

Ellis stared blankly at Nick, now standing just beside him. His hat was clenched tightly in his small hands, held close to his chest.

Nick had helped Ellis. Just the other night.

Silently, Ellis set the hat down on the table, walked back across the room and out the door.

* * *

It was pouring rain out.

Now, the storms in Savannah were notoriously bad, but this downpour was no walk in the park to the southern boy. He'd quickly gotten drenched in his effort to get to the bus stop, which was...somewhere.

Alright, he didn't actually know. He was more or less just wandering until he could find it. He knew he could've stopped and taken shelter somewhere, but the rain was motivating his desire to get out of the city, to start heading in the direction that could be home.

He was soaked through to the bone. And of course, Ellis was the kind of kid who would smile and shrug at any concerned passerby who asked if he was alright, if he had an umbrella or somewhere to stay. He really didn't want to trouble anyone else. He'd already been such a nuisance to someone who was his friend. You weren't supposed to trouble your friends, he was sure.

Ellis let his mind wander to the thought of said friend. Would he be awake now? Would he accept the boy's apology gift? He was probably going to get on with his life now. It must've been a pretty good life if he was able to afford all that money he'd been willing to dish out on him. That gun, too, or those fancy suits. Even a nice hotel room. Whatever Nick was doing, it was obviously working out for him.

Clenching his jaw tightly to avoid chattering his teeth, Ellis pulled his hood up over his head, wet hair pressed against his skull. His jeans clung awkwardly to his legs, his shirt sticky and uncomfortable with moisture. It wasn't an enjoyable sensation, but he'd deal.

His stomach growled loudly, adding another discomfort to the situation. When was the last time he'd eaten? He couldn't exactly remember a time...maybe a few days ago?

The sound occurred again, and Ellis put his arms around his stomach to try and muffle the noise. It didn't really work, as the noise was just as loud and annoying as ever.

"Shush, silly!" Ellis grumbled downwards, earning a puzzled stare from an elderly man as he passed. He instinctively reached up, looking to pull his hat down over his face to hide the sheepish blush beginning to colour his cheeks.

His fingers passed through empty air where the brim of his hat once was.

Odd, he already felt so weird without it.

Ignoring the rumbles of his tummy and the curious stares of a passerby wondering what the child was doing out in the streets alone, and without an umbrella in such a downpour, Ellis picked up the pace. After catching the stare of a particularly concerned young woman, he forced himself to smile cheerfully.

He kept that smile on, even as the woman's eyes were somewhere behind him and he'd rounded the corner.

So what if he was hungry? So what if he was cold and wet? He was still alive! Placing his hand over his chest, he would still feel the beating of a heart! Things could be worse, after all. He could've been stuck with those guys, forced to fix cars for bad people or something like that. Maybe they would've sold him to the circus, which would be bad for a while, because he really wouldn't be able to do any of the cool tricks, but it would get better because he'd learn, of course.

Things could be worse.

They could.

He could be alone.

No, wait. He was alone. Alright, alright.

He could be homeless.

Well...He didn't have a secure place to rest his head that night, and though he had a home, he was far far away from it. So...that didn't work either.

Well, he could definitely be hurt.

And...he was. The bruises on his arm and the dull ache in the back of his head reminded him of this. He'd just forgotten, and had foolishly reminded himself in his attempts to be optimistic.

Thankfully, the one thing he _could_ smile about was the little, open glass alcove on the side of the road. A universally recognized picture was painted in white and blue above the little shelter. A picture of a bus.

He jogged over to the bus stop, eager to duck under the glass roof and escape the rain. Once he was inside, he shook himself rapidly, shaking as much water as he could from his clothes and hair. Unfortunately, drying himself that easily was irrational thinking. He only managed to shake a few drops loose.

But he was the only one in the shelter, so he didn't get anyone else wet, which was decidedly a good thing.

He unzipped his sweater and pulled it off, ignoring the goosebumps rising over his skin from the cold. He wrung out the sweater as best he could, shook it a few times, then took a seat on the bench in the corner.

He sat patiently for a while, sweater bunched up in his lap. It was when the cold began to make him shiver that he pulled his knees up onto the bench as well. Being in the smaller position made him a little warmer for a little while longer.

Then his teeth began to chatter.

He tried to pout, but found himself too preoccupied with pulling his sweater over him as some sort of blanket, leaning into the side of the shelter for support. Although damp, the sweater helped just a little. Ellis managed to clench his jaw tight enough to stop the chattering again and pull himself into tight enough of a ball to keep himself warm-ish in the dry shelter.

At least until the wind shifted and suddenly the rain was being blown into the shelter. Ellis scrunched up his face, pulling his sweater up over his head and trying to vanish underneath it. He shut his eyes and focused on his breathing instead of the rain.

He tried to make it as even and relaxed as possible. Besides, it helped him ignore the sudden stabs of pain in his stomach, too. Ellis could feel himself easing into a relaxed state of mind, a foggy haze that made his eyelids heavy as if he were exhausted. He was expecting a feeling of warmth to follow the fatigue, but no. All he felt was a numbing coldness that started in his fingers and worked all the way up to his heart.

* * *

Ellis wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, sheltering himself from the onslaught of rain when it suddenly stopped.

Well, not stopped, he could still hear it beating furiously against the glass behind him, but he was no longer being sprayed with water. He snuggled even further under his sweater, hoping to draw some warmth from the garment now that the onslaught of water had stopped. He then felt a tug at the fabric and slowly relinquished his hold.

The light that flooded him when the sweater was pulled away was dull, but still managed to hurt the boy's eyes to look at it. It was still raining, the gray surroundings told him that much. He opened his mouth in a wide yawn, slowly moving his hands up to rub at his eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A harsh voice cut through the rain, as it would cut through almost anything else if it had the chance. Ellis let his eyes widen as he lifted his stare to focus on the figure that stood in front of him, the same figure that was blocking the spray of the rain outside.

His own blue eyes met annoyed green ones, and suddenly the boy felt compelled to look down, towards the man's polished leather shoes.

"I wuz...jus' waitin' fer the bus..." He admitted quietly.

Nick was drier than Ellis had been, and with an umbrella tucked under his arm the boy could conclude why.

"Were you now?"

"Yeah..." Ellis shuffled awkwardly, still feeling that intense stare on him even though he could not see it.

"It's a civic holiday today, buses aren't running like usual."

"...Oh." He wasn't sure what to say, or how to explain his sudden drive to leave the warm shelter of the hotel room for this depressing mess of weather. Nick, however, didn't seem to be all that interested in an explanation right then.

The man heaved a sigh, shrugging off his suit jacket (he was in another one of those damn fancy things,) and throwing the boy's damp sweater over his shoulder. Strong hands braced themselves on Ellis's shoulders, and then slowly pulled him forwards and off the bench. The boy stood, though refused to take his gaze off the floor, even as he was enveloped with a warmth that came from Nick's jacket being draped over his shoulder.

"Moron," the man muttered, opening up his umbrella before grabbing the boy's shoulder again and steering him out of the bus shelter, holding that little black umbrella over their heads. Ellis quietly let himself be pushed along, just a step ahead of the man as they walked, probably back to the hotel. He was trying to think of something to say to explain himself to the man just behind him, but his words didn't seem to want to form in his throat.

Ellis was entirely unprepared for when his legs gave out from underneath him. He crashed to the ground and right into a puddle, reduced to a shivering mess on the concrete.

Nick stood over him for a moment, frowning down at the boy as some thought flashed behind those careful green eyes. Ellis began to pick himself up off the ground when he felt the warm hands encircle his arms and help pull him up. There was a momentary, still pause as Nick folded the umbrella down and hooked it over his arm. In the next moment, he'd picked up the boy in his arms and continued walking.

Ellis became all-too-aware of the ashamed blush on his face. He wasn't a baby, he could walk.

"I can walk, y'know, I 'aint some pansy," he said.

"I don't care," was the response.

"But yer gonna get all wet in the rain now," Ellis's protest was weaker now. Why hadn't he realized how tired he was before now? He could've sworn that night's rest would've been enough to keep him going.

"Again, I don't care."

Ellis huffed indignantly, but eventually caved to the childish treatment. Besides, Nick was warm, and he was not. He would apologize later for siphoning off the man's heat and being carried. For now, he would simply admit to how not alright he was really feeling and relax in his senior's arms.

Before he drifted off into a semi-conscious doze, he saw water drip off the brim of his hat and fall in front of his face.

_When did that get there...?_

* * *

It was the smell of food that brought him back to his senses.

Instantly excited, he bolted upright, barely registering the feeling of Deja Vu as he looked out over the hotel room once more. He was in the center of that large bed, warm and dry tucked under the covers. He was also in a pair of dry clothes, fleece pajamas that had the logo of the hotel.

This time, Nick had not passed out in the chair as he had the last night, but he stood at the door, a plate in his hands and passive eyes on the boy who'd awoken so abruptly upon his enterance.

"Feeling better?"

"Righ' as rain!" Ellis threw off the covers, ready to jump out of bed. It's was the young man's curt voice that stopped him.

"Stay put, you idiot," the conman grumbled, crossing the room to the foot of the bed. "You're not getting out again." He held the plate out for Ellis to take.

"But why?" The boy did not need to be convinced to take the food. His hands were on the ceramic plate as soon as it was offered to him. Bacon, eggs and hashbrowns! Just like Ma used to make!

"Do you remember the trip back here?"

Ellis had already picked up a strip of bacon with his fingers and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, so he wasn't able to respond right away. Instead, he was left trying to politely grin through a mouthful of bacon and finding the mildly disgusted look on the man's face quite humorous.

When he'd chewed and swallowed, he found his voice.

"Not really, s'all kinda blurry."

"That's because you passed out." Nick took a seat at the end of the bed, unrolling the newspaper that had been tucked under his arm. He continued to talk as he flipped it open to read. "You were running a fever when we got back here, and were light as hell. You probably caught something prancing around in the rain like that, and I don't want to know when the last time you ate was."

"I wasn't prancin'!" Ellis protested through a mouthful of egg. He paused to swallow, then muttered quietly under his breath. "_I 'aint no pansy."_

"As soon as I walked in here, I was bombarded with young stewardesses who were so concerned about the 'oh-so-adorable little kid' who looked like he'd been thrown in the ocean." Nick sounded a little bitter, but it was only because for once, those young stewardesses were gushing about someone other than him. "They kept asking me what was wrong, and if they could help, blah blah blah."

"Is that how I got these?" Ellis pulled at the pajamas with greasy fingers. In response to the action, Nick let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, grimacing again at the boy's lack of etiquette.

"Yes, that's how you got those. When I told them you were a friend's kid who'd gotten lost, they insisted on cleaning you up and giving you something warm and dry."

"Dinn't they ask if I had other stuff to wear?"

"They did, and I told them you'd somehow managed to lose your luggage, too. Then, voila, free P.J's, compliments of all female staff."

"Oh cool." Ellis had scarfed down half his plate between the conversation, and now went about ravaging the remaining hashbrowns. Watching him with an odd look that said he wasn't very familiar with kids, Nick spoke slowly.

"I changed my mind, when was the last time you ate?"

Ellis shrugged.

"I'unno, maybe a couple days?"

Nick's frown deepened, but he said nothing more. Instead he averted his stare to the paper on the bed, pretending to be absorbed in a story written there. It was only when Ellis had vinished practically vacuuming up the food that Nick folded the news and said anything more.

"Alright. Start talking."

Normally, Ellis needed no invitation to go off on a tangent. But this was different. That feeling of guilt had welled up in his gut once again, making the food in his stomach churn. He swallowed heavily, trying to override the wave of nausea that went hand-in-hand with the guilt.

"'Bout what?" He said dodgedly, "I got plenty o' stories!"

"_Ellis."_ Nick's stern tone drove the boy's gaze straight down into the covers. Ellis pulled his legs up close and tried to shimmy under the covers. But Nick's weight on the end of the bed was unintentionally pinning the blankets down and stopping them from being pulled up any further.

Ellis settled instead for staring hard into the blankets and saying nothing. Again, Nick let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed at his temples with a hand, covering his eyes.

"You're such a bother," he grumbled, more-so to himself then the boy.

"'M real sorry," Ellis said quickly, "I really dinn't wanna bother you, s'why I left this mornin' in the first place, I though that you-" The boy quickly shut his mouth, firmly sealing his lips before he spilled anything else. Nick, however, was a smart man. He'd pieced two and two together before, but the boy's outburst was a reassurance.

"You thought I would rather you disappeared so I wouldn't have to deal with you?"

Ellis gave a guilty nod.

"Well, you're half right."

"...Half?"

"Initially, I was frustrated because I'm no good with kids," Nick carried on, not giving the boy a chance to interject with a 'I'm not a kid!' comment. "and I didn't know what I was supposed to do to help you, so when I yelled, I was angry because I'm not used to not knowing how to react in a given situation."

Ellis stared, a wide-eyed look on his face, but he did not interrupt.

"I felt bad about it later, partially because you were probably in serious trouble and I'd chosen to ignore it. I came back looking for you, only to find you'd stupidly thrown yourself at two thugs."

"I dinn't _throw _myse-"

"And when I'd gotten you out of that mess, you continued to ramble, oblivious to the fact that you could've been seriously hurt." Nick's voice was starting to raise, a combination of annoyance and stern anger.

"Bu' I told ya-"

"And on top of all that, I give you a place to sleep and stay for the night, then wake up to find you'd ditched."

"I thought you wanted-"

"And when I find you, carry your sorry ass back here and feed you, you _still_ frustrate me by not telling me what I need to do to help you!"

Ellis stopped trying to interject at this comment, red-faced under the man's harsh stare for a few moments, before he lowered his gaze once again and tried to make himself as small as possible. When he discovered he was unable to disappear under that unforgiving stare, he mumbled come incoherent sentence into the covers.

"Excuse me?"

"What do...I dunno...I dunno what to tell you..." Ellis tried to hide his face under the covers so that Nick couldn't see the blush painting his cheeks and nose, but the blanket only came up just past his mouth.

The conman let out a long sigh and shifted on the end of the bed. He turned, crossing his legs and facing the boy, propping his elbows on his knees and propping his chin in his hands.

"Start with why you left Savannah," he said, forcing the annoyance out of his voice to leave his tone flat.

"Well...um..." Ellis shifted awkwardly again, having a place to start but not the courage to start it. He met the man's even gaze, expecting to see anger and impatience. Instead, those normally cold green eyes were simply open, honest: patiently awaiting the explanation he deserved. Seeing this, Ellis inspired himself to be just as open and honest, carrying on in a stronger tone.

"You remember how I told ya my Ma and Pa were fightin' before, right? Well 'em fights only got worse and worse. At firs' it wuz jus' over silly stuff like groceries or tv an' whatnot, but then they started arguin' 'bout stuff like the house, the cars, work 'n me." The boy let the blanket pool in his lap. "At first they was jus' yellin', but then I heard some crashes an' cryin' an' stuff...'n then one day I woke up 'n my Ma was cryin' in the kitchen 'n my dad wuz drivin' off in his car."

Ellis paused to shuffle again, then continued.

"Ma said he'd taken all the money he could, 'n stormed out. When I heard, I figured 'cause I was the new man o' the house 'n such, I had to go try 'n figure out what happened, so that night I got all the money I'd been savin' fer my first car an' got on the bus. I though' if I could find Pa and get 'im to come home, Ma would feel better 'n smile again."

"You left by yourself?"

Ellis nodded.

"I figured Pa would've gone to family members, so I wuz headin' to where I knew they lived, but they all said they hadn't seen 'im. I just kept goin' from place to place, until I fell asleep on one bus 'n ended up somewhere totally different."

"Did you ever tell your mother where you were going?"

"Well...no...But it's 'cause I though' I would find 'im before she noticed! Then after fallin' asleep, I couldn' find the right bus to get me home, so I kept gettin' on random ones hopin' that God or summin' would show me the way...'n I ended up here."

"In San Fransisco."

"Yeah."

Nick let out a long sigh.

"Have you tried calling your mother?"

"Well, yeah, I tried after I realized I was good 'n lost, but no one was there 'n I just got the answerin' machine, which was her soundin' all panicked an' whatnot an' sayin' she wuz pro'ally out lookin' for me an' if anyone had any info they should drop by an' leave it in the mailbox..."

"I see..."

Both males fell into a heavy, awkward silence. Nick was the one to unexpectedly break it.

"So, you're just about as far from Savannah as you could be and still be in the country."

"I figured...everyone up here talks like you do. Sounds funny."

"How are you getting home, Ellis?"

"The...The bus?"

"Do you have the money?"

"...pro'ally not..."

Nick let out another heavy sigh, throwing his legs back over the side of the bed.

"And you're how old?" He asked with a tired smile.

A pause.

"Twelve."

"Alright, here's what's going to happen." Nick rose, standing straight and stretching his arms above his head. "I'm going to get you back to Savannah personally."

"But I can't ask you to-!"

"Shut up. I don't trust you to manage yourself with buses, and knowing you, you'd probably get abducted, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I probably sentenced some twelve-year-old brat to his death at the hands of pedophiles."

"Pedo...whatsitnows?"

"Nevermind it. However, I'm not just doing this out of the goodness of my heart. You'll have to listen to several conditions."

Ellis seemed a little overwhelmed.

"O-okay?"

"First condition, you're going to shower and _stay clean._ You smell like a wet dog right now and on a good day, I can compare you to a miniature grease-slathered-monkey. I won't be seen associating with anyone looking _or smelling_ that filthy."

The boy nodded quickly.

"Second condition, you're going to listen to what I tell you. So if I tell you to shut up, you shut up."

"I'll try," Ellis shifted his gaze off to one side, quietly muttering to himself as the man continued, "_But I make no promises."_

"And lastly, we're going at _my_ pace. If I've got shit to do in a city, I'm going to do it. We'll try and get a hold of your mother so she knows your safe, but you're little more than a hitchhiker to me. I'll take you where you need to go, but I've got my life to attend to around it. Got it?"

Ellis nodded eagerly, only to be abruptly stopped when he jerked in violent sneeze. Nick grimaced at the open-mouthed sneeze that really didn't send anything too disgusting flying. It was just the concept of an uncovered sneeze that bothered the conman.

"Good, now go shower. You reek."

With a new found spring in his step, the boy went to do just that. He hopped out of bed and scampered into the bathroom, shutting the door in a rush behind him. Nick let out a sigh, then moved to the window with the plan of lighting another cigarette. Just as he'd opened the window, the bathroom door opened behind him.

"Hey, Nick?" Ellis called, poking his head into the room.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Nick passively waved a hand behind him, dismissing the boy and his thanks and partially banishing them to the shower. Ellis accepted this action as simply something Nick would do, then retreated back behind the closed door. Had he hesitated any longer, he would've seen the man give a little smile, chuckle, then light his cigarette.

"You're welcome."

* * *

Ellis came out not too much later, but had given the man enough time to finish his cigarette then step outside the room for a moment, careful to ensure it locked behind him. He was still in his 'Complimentary P.J's,' but his hair and skin smelled like hotel products, which was a much better smell than wet dog.

When he exited, the room was empty.

Like, completely empty.

There was the bed, the table and the mirror, but Nick's belongings had gone and the man had yet to return, so Ellis was alone in the seemingly unoccupied room.

He felt a little odd.

But he trusted Nick, even though he knew so very little about him. Then again, he was convincing himself that he didn't need to know much. What he did know was enough. The man was kind enough to offer him a ride home, which involved crossing the country, and obviously help pay for his well being between point A and point B.

All this coming from a stranger.

Even if he had met the stranger before a few months ago, and even if he'd followed that stranger around and made him refer to the boy as a friend. Even if that stranger had given him his favourite hat.

Speaking of, Ellis couldn't see the blue-and-white thing in the room anywhere. When he'd awoken, he'd spotted it on the bedside table, but now that all belonging in the room had been cleared, he wondered where it had gotten off to. Did Nick take it?

The boy walked in wide circles around the room, unable to find anything belonging to him or Nick and not quite able to explain why.

Until a dark thought prodded at the back of his head.

_Maybe Nick took it._

An' left for good? No, not likely.

_You don't really know much about him. He has a gun on him, after all, and lots of money. Maybe he's some sort of thief?_

He wouldn' steal stupid stuff from some kid!

_Maybe not, but he might steal stuff from a kid to get a message across._

Oh yeah, 'n what message might tha' be?

_Don't talk to strangers._

The door clicked as a key was inserted into the lock. Ellis interrupted his internal feud in order to whip his head to the entrance and scamper over like an eager puppy. The door opened, revealing a bored-looking man in casual clothes.

At first, the casual clothes made Ellis believe whoever it was wasn't Nick, but upon careful observation, he recognized the dark hair that fell around the young man's face, framing an aloof expression. He was just...not in a suit. Instead, he was in black slacks and a sage, long-sleeved shirt. It was still fancy, but not as fancy as Ellis was used to seeing on his elder comrade.

"You're back!"

"Brilliant observation, now come on." Nick stepped away from the boy and held the door open, waiting for the child to follow. He didn't seem too concerned that Ellis was going out in his pajamas and sans shoes. Ellis was hardly bothered by these details at all. He was very relieved that the nasty inner voice had been proven wrong. Nick was still here.

"Where're we goin'?"

"Upstairs."

"Oh, cool. Why?"

"Because I felt like a change of scenery."

Nick led the boy to the stairwell, up one flight of stairs and then back into the hall. They got about halfway down when Nick turned, inserted his keys into the door and pushed it open, revealing a new room.

This room was a little larger than the last. Large enough to fit two queen-sized beds on opposite sides of the room. Ellis could see Nick's suitcase against the wall by one bed, and his clothes folded on the foot of his bed, looking drier than when he'd last seen them.

"We got a new room?"

"Duh." Nick walked inside, not bothering to hold the door open this time, letting the kid push his own way in. "I did not plan on sleeping in that chair two nights in a row."

"I would'a slept in it, though."

"Well, now you have a bed, so you won't have to."

"Yeah, thanks!"

Again, Nick said nothing in reply to the boy. Instead, he sat down on the foot of his own bed, grabbing a book as he shimmied up the mattress to recline against the headboard.

Ellis stood at the door, feeling a little out of place as Nick flipped open then book and skimmed through the pages.

Then he sneezed.

"You should be resting," Nick said simply, clicking a reading lamp on beside him as he fixed his eyes on the words in his book.

"But I 'aint all that sleepy."

"Then just lie down until you are."

Ellis grumbled, but didn't protest. He clicked the light off and made his way over to his own bed, crawling under his covers and lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. There was a dim light coming from Nick's beside table, but it wasn't too bothersome. Regardless, lying there doing nothing was boring, and eventually the boy felt himself compelled to talk.

"Where are you from, Nick?"

"Illinois."

"Tha' up north?"

"Chicago, Ellis."

"Oh."

There was a rustling as Nick turned the page.

"Where's your ma livin'?"

"Chicago."

Ellis huffed, inwardly trying to figure out a way to get Nick to answer with more than one or two words. Mid-thought, he sneezed again.

"Get some sleep, Ellis."

"But I 'aint tired," he repeated, "'n I like to talk when I 'aint tired yet."

"I know."

"So...can I talk?"

"Knock yourself out. Please."

Ellis wasn't sure how to interpret the double-meaning in those words. He grinned to himself, shut his eyes and folded his arms behind his head.

"I really appreciate all this, y'know. I'd pro'ally still be out there 'n half dead if you hadn't come out lookin' for me. I know I was a bit stupid 'n stuff, an' I'm really glad-"

"Don't mention it, Ellis."

"I mean it, I was really glad you showed up, 'cause I was-"

"I said, don't mention it, Ellis. Meaning, let's not talk about this."

"Will you talk about summin' else?"

"Like?"

"Tell me a story."

Nick shifted, shutting his book as he sat up a little straighter.

"Ellis, I'm really not good with this kind of stuff."

"Thass alright, but it's easier fer me to fall asleep when I hear folks talkin'. Ma 'n Pa would always be talkin' when I was super-small, 'n we had a small house, so I always heard 'em, 'n it was always easier to sl-"

"Alright, alright, I get it. What do you want to hear?"

"Ya know why I'm in San Fransisco, but why are you?"

"Well..." Nick breathed this syllable with a sigh, setting his book down beside him and scooting down so he too could lie on his back, talking at the ceiling. "After I got out of the motel, I started playing the pool circuits first, seeing if I could make any more money off of betting on games."

"And didja?"

"Of course I did, and I would've told you that if you'd shush and listen."

"Oh, okay."

"I headed to Miami, where I participated in my first high-stakes poker game, and managed to walk away with five times what I'd walked in with."

"Thass a lot?"

"Yes, Ellis, that was a lot." Nick brushed a hand absently through his hair, continuing despite the interruptions. "After that, I just kind of drifted. I hit up all the major cities, New Orleans, Vegas, Los Angeles, Texas, and so on. I don't mean to brag too much, but I got pretty damn good. Made a lot of money, gained some new talents. I was heading up here for a couple more games, and I was on my way to a private company game when I ran into you."

"Oh, sorry." Ellis's voice was quiet and came out a mumble. Nick had a feeling the boy didn't really know what he was apologizing for. So, the young man continued.

"I've made a lot of money in the past few months, enough to keep me satisfied for quite a while, but I don't think I'll stop. I'm doing what I like for a living, and that's what they tell you to do in school, so I'm going to stick with it. Not because school told me to, but because I like games of chance and skill, and I'm good at them."

"Yerr loaded." Ellis slurred, the comment not exactly meshing with the conversation. Nick assumed the boy was just drowsy. He hadn't been lying when he said he fell asleep better to the voices of others.

"Sure." Nick paused, turning his head to the side to catch the boy in the corner of his eye. The hick was lying on his side, curled up under the blankets with the covers pulled up to his nose. His eyes were closed, but he still absently mumbled through the fabric.

"I wish Ma 'n Pa had as much luck...maybe they wouldn'tve faught none..."

Nick felt a little guilty for living so easily when the boy's family had it so hard. He didn't dwell on the feeling long, and instead went about quickly rectifying the damage it had caused.

"Tomorrow, I don't have anything planned. We'll get you some stuff for the road, so you're not always wearing that ratty outfit."

"I like it."

"It doesn't hurt to have a change of clothes. You can keep the shirt and jeans and hat and stuff, but I'm not having you wearing the same smelly thing every day."

"You're awfully picky, sir."

"I can afford to be."

"Mhmm."

Silence stretched over the dimly lit room for another few, long minutes. Nick lay on his back, listening to the slow breathing of the boy a few paces away. Already he was beginning to plan out the next few days in his head, and how long he assumed it would take to get the boy back in Savannah where he belonged.

Just when he thought Ellis had finally drifted off, he heard him mumble something quietly, barely audible. He would've missed it had the room not already been silent.

"Thank you."

This time, Nick answered in a voice meant to be heard.

"You're welcome."

_It's the least I can do._

He was such a good kid, after all. That southern sweetness followed him around like a curse, making him even more naive and innocent than the city-raised tweens Nick had grown up with. A good kid like Ellis didn't deserve to be stuck lost in a big city just about as far removed from home as he could be. Ellis deserved someone to help him, just as he would've helped someone else.

The fact that the someone happened to be Nick was just an odd coincidence, but the gambler wasn't sure if it was an unwelcome one or not.

Despite being young, Ellis seemed to have a slightly tipped sense of self, in contrast to Nick. The conman's internal scale was tipped slightly more to selfishness, while the boy's was tipped more in the direction of selflessness. They almost balanced each other out.

Nick was in San Fransisco for personal gain.

Ellis was in San Fransisco on accident, but in the process of trying to answer questions for not only himself, but his mother as well.

And he still found time to help out shady-looking strangers.

He still found the will to refuse help because he didn't want to be a burden to others.

He still apologized and thanked others in excess, just to express how he felt.

He wore his heart on his sleeve. His face showed everything he thought.

He was totally honest.

A little role model.

Nick turned over on his side, facing away from the boy. He leaned over to the bed-side table and clicked out the light.

Maybe he had some things to learn from this kid.

* * *

**Yeahman. The moral of this story is don't be an ass.**

**Anywhoosits, so very surprised to get so many reviews, I really appreciate everything you pepole say, and I read and reply to every one. (I think. Feel free to smack me if I missed you). Every time I see a new review I smile, and I start to get real addicted to these e-mails from Fanfiction.**

**Anyways, I lied about the heaviness. It should go on for another chapter or so, then the mood should lighten just a tad. Hopefully. I don't know, I really tend to jot down these ideas as I get them, or hear about them. Sometimes, you people inspire me with your reviews. Honest.**

**So keep 'em coming! Pleasepleasepleaseplease review, I do love hearing from pepole.**

**Thank you for reading this far!**

**Toodles~**

**Shmee**


	4. Chapter 4

_"Get the fuck up!"_

Nick bolted upright in his bed, forced into wakefulness by a deep, loud voice. Barely conscious, he blinked into the dim lighting. It was almost still entirely dark in the room, aside from a very dull grey light pouring in through the window. The light was barely enough to illuminate a large figure at the foot of his bed. He instantly went back to the large thug from the previous night with the car.

"I said, get up!" The voice came again, loud and commanding. Nick instinctively reached for his gun, which would be under his pillow on any normal occasion. However, due to the second body in the room at night, Nick had left his jacket (and the firearm it concealed) on the chair.

The chair on the other side of the room.

The glisten of a silenced pistol caught his eye, though he did not recognize it as his own. The man was pointing a gun at him from where he stood, his aim sure and stiff.

Nick threw off the covers and slowly climbed out of bed, holding his hands in the air all the while, eyes on the muzzle of the pistol. Beside him, Ellis stared into the dark with wide, startled eyes. He hadn't made a sound, and had been quiet enough for the conman to believe the boy had slept through the yelling. But no, he was fully conscious and staring at the intruders.

Yes, intruders.

Now upright and a little less plagued by a drowsy fog, Nick could see the demanding giant was not alone. A scrawny man stood by the door, a shotgun looking out of place in his thin fingers. Another man was making his way around to Ellis's bed.

"What the hell is this?" He said, grabbing the boy by the collar and dragging him roughly away from the mattress. He scrambled awkwardly for balance as he was pulled, nearly held completely off the ground by the grip on his shirt. "Boss didn't say anything about a brat."

"Turn around!" The large man growled. Nick understood the command was not a reply to his comrade, but rather an order for the conman himself to follow. He kept his hands in the air and turned, slowly. Forcing his mind into action, he quickly tried to piece together what was going on, and what he could do to stop it from getting any further along.

He heard heavy footsteps approach him from behind, then the muzzle of the gun pressed into the small of his back.

One large hand closed around his wrist, pulling it behind him and then shoving it forward into his back. He cried out in pain as his limb was forced to bend in a direction it didn't easily bend, colliding solidly with the wall as he was pushed forwards.

His other wrist was pulled down and behind him before being secured a little too tightly with metal handcuffs. When he was pulled away from the wall, he believed he was being arrested for some sort of crime by the cops. When he was shoved back into the wall with an unnecessary amount of force, he realized these were no cops.

"Cut it out!" He hissed instinctively, trying to fight off the dizziness that came hand in hand with having his skull collide with the wall a second time.

"Shut up!"

"Hey," the second voice interjected again, "what the hell am I supposed to do with this?" The man gave the boy a rough shake, still holding him by the collar. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick would see that the boy had his hands on the large fingers gripping his collar, trying to subtly pull himself free.

The man behind Nick grunted, casting a glance over at the subject of the conversation.

"Shit, I don't know. Bring him with us for now. He can ride in the back with Jonah."

At this, Nick decided to raise his voice.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you assholes?"

As a response, the young man was harshly slammed into the wall once again. The dizziness that followed him this time was easily more severe than the last times. He practically fell into the man's arms when he was pulled away by the chain between the cuffs.

"I said shut up, kid! You'll get your answers soon enough!" The man started to tow Nick along by the chain of the cuffs. The other man holding Ellis moved to follow, choosing to drag his dead-weight along as well. The kid, however, put up quite a bit of struggle, digging his heels into the carpet and trying to pound the man's arm until he was released.

The man was firmly built, obviously meant for a heavy-duty job taking down more substantial targets. At this resistance, he swept the boy up by the waist with one arm and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. This didn't stop Ellis from flailing and trying to unbalance his captor, but it certainly meant the man met less momentum resistance.

The scrawny one followed behind them, shutting the door quietly once everyone was out.

When out in the open hallway, Nick didn't think of calling out until he heard Ellis yell crossly through the silence.

"Hey, put me down! This 'aint righ'! We 'aint done nuthin' to you! You 'aint even told us wha-"

His voice was suddenly muffled, but Nick was unable to see how or by what (maybe he would've taken notes, had he seen.) Instead, the conman was spun around and shoved in front of his captor, though still held by the cuffs, and pushed into the elevator until he was pressed against the wall.

When all four and a half men were crammed in the elevator, the doors closed slowly shut behind them and began a slow decent to ground level. Nick chose this time to quietly interject.

"Mind at least telling me where we're going?" He grumbled into the wall.

"To the car," was his curt response.

Karma was a bitch.

When the doors slid back open with a melodic chime, Nick was dragged out into the quiet lobby after everyone else had vacated the little elevator. The lobby was empty, save for one body sprawled over the front desk, either unconscious or worse.

The awkward party made their way outside and down the cement stairs. As soon as they got out into the street, Nick felt the chill of a morning air on his face. There was minimal light outside, which lead the man to believe it was quite early in the morning.

He was awkwardly dragged around until he was made to walk in front of the man holding him, the muzzle of the gun once again pressing into his back and motivating him to move with very little resistance.

Ellis, however, continued to kick and flail, mumbling into the flesh of the man's hand covering his mouth. He kept up this fruitless struggle for a few moments, before he paused with an idea.

"Ow, little shit bit me!"

"Help, help!" The boy called into the street. But by this time, they'd already reached the black vehicle they were being transported in. The scrawny man pulled open the back door, allowing his companion to roughly shove the kid down and into the back seat. He then pointed his shotgun at the boy and clambered in after him, shutting the door with his free hand once he was inside.

Nick was pushed around to the back of the car, but managed to catch glimpses of the scrawny man looming over Ellis with a roll of thick duct tape, aiming to cover the kid's working mouth.

Just as the man would've succeeded in silencing the boy, Nick's vision into the backseat was obscured by the inside of the door to the trunk. He stood, staring down into the empty trunk with a hint of disgust.

It smelled horrible.

But he was unable to complain as his head was forced down into the cramped, dark space. With the pistol in his back motivating his compliance, he propped his knee on the back of the car and awkwardly tumbled in. His captor aided by shoving him back further into the car's storage, pushing his leg harshly into his chest so it wouldn't get caught in the door when it was slammed down above him.

Nick winced as he was plunged into a lightless void and left staring wide-eyed at nothing. He strained to hear as muffled voices came from somewhere outside the car, then muffled thumps of doors shutting. He began to try and pound the trunk with his legs when he heard the engine start, then the vehicle lurched into motion and away from the hotel.

* * *

Ellis was scared.

He sat pressed against the passenger side of the back seat. The smallest of the three men sat beside him, staring blankly ahead with a shotgun balanced in his lap. One of the larger men was driving, the man in the passenger seat had his chair as far back as it would go, forbiding the boy to put down his legs.

He couldn't have complained, even if he wanted to. Upon being shoved into the back seat, the man named Jonah had managed to plaster a strip of duct tape over his mouth. He could only settle for the occasional grunt of protest, which would be silenced by the bark of an older man.

He didn't know what was going on, which was by far the most frightening thing to the boy. He didn't know who these men were, where they were going or why they were being taken there in the first place. Now, he wasn't stupid. He had his guesses.

Nick must have gotten in trouble with someone, which is why they'd come for him so early in the morning and handcuffed him. But these people weren't cops, so Ellis knew at least his comrade wasn't in trouble with the law. Also, had these people been cops, they would've treated him, a minor, far better than he was being treated now.

Furthermore, Ellis was rather certain that the driver wouldn't need a map to find the police station if they were cops. The passenger had one held up against the dash, and was giving the driver directions, but Ellis didn't know any of the street names being exchanged, so he couldn't form a destination in his head.

The boy's mind wandered to the thugs from the other night. It was quite possible they were the same people, and initially that had been the boy's thought when he first awoke to the sounds of yelling. But then one of the men had mentioned something about a 'Boss' not mentioning 'a Brat'. So if they hadn't known about him, they definitely weren't the same people.

So that simply left the fact that they were people with a grudge against Nick, who had the misfortune of being crammed in the trunk.

He shifted, his legs feeling a little weird from being crammed up against his chest for so long. He grumbled quietly to himself, realizing then that the men had failed to secure his seat belt when they'd thrown him in the back.

Awkwardly, and trying not to be noticed, he reached up and behind him. His hands had been tied together with duct tape in front of him, so he was sure it must have looked a little suspicious when he moved.

Right about his assumption, Ellis winced as Jonah whipped his head to glare at him.

"What're you doing?" He growled.

Ellis opened his eyes wide and kept them fixed on the thin man, trying to look humble and innocent as he continued to reach up behind him. The man said not did nothing as Ellis's hands closed around the belt, then worked at pulling it across himself and securing the buckle.

He felt a little better about himself when the man smiled just a fraction and chuckled.

Ellis forced himself to sit still and silently for a few minutes, inwardly pleased when Jonah turned to him again and spoke softly.

"I know you can't answer," he said idly, "but are you from around here?" Ellis stared at him for a moment, before flicking his gaze to the front seats. Neither of the men seemed too bothered that the third was striking up a conversation. Relieved that he was apparently not the only one who got bored in silent car rides, Ellis shook his head.

"Didn't think so. You've got a really heavy accent there. You're from the south, right?"

Ellis nodded.

"Wow, then what on earth are you doing up here? And with _that_ guy, no less?" Jonah jerked his head in the direction of the trunk, referring to the man stuffed inside of it. He paused for a moment, almost expecting a reply until he realized it was impossible for him to get one. "Oh, well. I doesn't matter. We're not going to hurt you, we're just being cautious."

Even if he didn't feel any wiser about the situation, Ellis allowed himself to relax a little. He trusted Jonah to be honest. Which was odd, seeing as Jonah and his companions seemed bent on hurting Nick and all had guns...but Ellis was just a naturally trusting person. He couldn't help it.

He tried to convey his questions with a wide-eyed stare tinged with a bit of fear. Jonah met this look evenly, shrugged and then cast his gaze out the window. Thinking he'd been misunderstood, Ellis sighed through his nose. After a few long seconds, the man spoke again.

"We didn't know you were going to be in there too. I guess Alex kind of panicked when he said we should take you too. We were told it was just the one guy."

Ellis suddenly felt very concerned for his older friend somewhere behind him. This had to have shown in his expression, because Jonah quickly spoke again.

"Your friend will be alright too, don't worry. We're just..." there was a pause as Jonah tried to find the right words. "We're just delivering a message. It might be a little rough, but he'll be alright in the end."

Someone in the front snorted.

Ellis frowned, though the expression was lost behind the duct tape. So instead of pressuring Jonah wordlessly for information, the boy slowly turned his gaze out the window, unable to contain a whimper as they pulled onto a quiet, house-less street that lead straight out into the water.

* * *

It had gotten a bit brighter outside when the trunk was opened again. Or maybe Nick had just grown so used to the darkness of the back that it seemed that way.

The young man was dragged roughly out of the trunk, not given time to find his feet beneath him and simply thrown harshly to the gravel road. He grumbled viciously as he rolled to his knees, about to rise when he was pulled up again by the chain of the cuffs behind him. He was shoved around the car and towards the water of the ocean ahead. He could see a dock stretching just out over the waterfront, though no boats were anchored there.

The back door opened, reminding Nick of their second prisoner. Ellis was tucked into the corner of the back seat, pressed behind the passenger's chair and looking otherwise unscathed.

Well, at least it wasn't all bad.

As the thin man climbed out through the open door, Nick hoped Ellis would take the opportunity to flee. However, the thin man wasn't able to get too far, as one of the larger captors held out a hand to stop him from leaving.

"Stay here and watch the kid, Jonah, make sure he doesn't get away."

The man called Jonah looked as if he was about to complain, but promptly shut his mouth and nodded, seeing the object in the man's hand. He ducked back inside the car and shut the door. The locks clicked in his wake.

"Come on, fancy-pants." Nick was shoved forward, towards the water. The second man fell in step behind them, careful to keep the contents of his hands in front of him, no doubt to keep it hidden from the boy.

One hand held tightly to a wooden baseball bat.

The other carried a cinder block.

* * *

Nick rolled across the dock, pain blossoming out from his stomach like fire. When he found his knees, he pushed himself a little ways up. Even though he thought he would've had the strength to rise, he found himself doubled over and coughing violently.

"Heh, not much of a fighter."

"Yeah?" Nick rasped, his throat aching with the effort. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't hurt, but he would defend his pride regardless. Blood trickled from his mouth and onto the dock, "and if I fight back, what're you gonna do? Threaten me with the kid's life?"

He was answered with a solid blow on the back from the baseball bat.

Then came the annoying click of that god damned camera.

Nick had first wondered what on earth that thing was there for. He would've liked to say it was just some sick fetish, but the pieces had started to click together with every blow he took.

When the three men had reached the dock, Nick was promptly thrown onto the wood. He didn't even had the chance to rise before he was smashed solidly in the side with the bat. From there, the two men took turns. They would wait for him to find some sort of balance or security, then kick him or whack him with that god damned bat. When he visibly had enough bruises and had started bleeding from a few places, one of the men took out a camera.

"What the hell?" He'd hissed upon being bombarded with an annoying flash.

"Photo evidence." The man replied. "Our client wants to know you suffered."

Then, Nick had started thinking back, through the bruises and jeers and annoying clicking of a camera. He could only come to one logical explanation for being abused by hired thugs. The man from the poker game. The one he'd cleaned out and had humiliated himself by freaking out at the table and storming off.

Nick had openly mocked his failure that night, finding it as a way to pull himself out and above the crowd he seemed to be disappearing into. He wasn't sure if he regretted that or not now.

"If he wants money, I can pay him back. He doesn't have to be an ass about it." When the pain had begun to get unbearable, Nick had tried negotiating. His smooth, even tone was wasted on the brutish pair who took pleasure only in inflicting the younger man pain.

"He doesn't want any money." One of the men had growled, spitting on the ground by Nick's body.

"Yeah, he just wants to get even," the other chuckled along with his own words, then silently went back to their terrible sport of abuse.

When Nick's vision had begun to blurr, the abuse came to a halt. Both men backed off, leaving him dry heaving at the end of the dock, curled up into a ball in attempts to make himself disappear. The sage shirt he'd fallen asleep in the previous night was now spotted with blood. Bruises littered his arms and likely his legs, his lip and nose felt swollen on his face.

He was given a few minutes to compose himself. And by compose himself, that meant moan and roll around on the dock until he could once again figure out which way was up and which way was down and conclude that the most intense of pains were coming from his ribs. When he'd begun to push himself to his knees without the use of his hands, one of the men approached again. His right leg was suddenly pulled out from underneath him.

The other guy had gone back to clicking that god damned camera.

He felt a rope being bound tightly around his ankle then pulled uncomfortably close to a solid, heavy object. Visions of the cinder block flashed in his mind's eye.

He suddenly remembered being scolded by his mother as a toddler for stealing toys from his neighbor's yard. He remembered having nightmares about being thrown into a cold, dark cell with monsters and skeletons. He remembered begging his mother for forgiveness and spending the night in her bed. At the bizarre, unexpected memories, he almost chuckled when a sudden thought dawned on him.

Shit, was that his life flashing before his eyes?

He concluded it probably was, as he felt himself being dragged closer to the dock edge by the rope around his ankle.

His hands were un-cuffed, dragging limp alongside his body. He wondered when they had been taken off, as he couldn't quite remember the moment.

Nick could hear the two snickering and speaking above him, but he was too dazed to even try to make out the words. He'd begun to wonder what really awaited him beyond the bottom of the ocean when a clear voice cut over the dock.

"Hey, Alex, Mitch, you two done yet? It's almost been an hour. People will be out and about soo-" The voice cut off, no doubt in shock at witnessing the sights at hand.

Silence stretched over the docks for the longest while, before the voice returned, much quieter. Nick strained to hear it, beginning to find clarity in his vision. "I didn't know you were going to kill him!"

"Surprise?"

"Boss's order. What's the big deal? It's not like we haven't done this before."

"But I promised the kid this guy would walk away from this!" Jonah was getting closer. Nick wondered where said kid was at that time. Was he still in the car? Did he take the opportunity to run away yet? He better have, or Nick would be sure to haunt his ass.

"Oh, boohoo. Poor kid will have to deal."

"Don't know what he is to this guy anyway. He's too young to have a kid that old. What is he, like, twenty?"

"Brothers, maybe?"

"Who gives a shit? He's gonna be dead in a couple minutes anyways." Once again, Nick was nudged just a little closer to the water's edge. He lifted his head, squinting in the direction of dry land. He could see the thin man standing there just before the wooden dock. Ready to sigh and put his head down again, (and likely for the last time,) Nick almost missed the sudden movement from behind the man.

Almost.

"Nick!"

Nick cursed, but the words came out a jumbled groan.

The unmistakable accent was there, heavy and out-of-place in a city fully of northerners. The conman began willing the boy away, even as he dashed out towards him. Thankfully, Jonah reached out to grab his waist and pulled him back.

"Stay away!" he hissed warningly, but his words fell on deaf ears. Ellis thrashed and kicked, trying to claw his way towards his comrade, who lay spent on the dock.

"No! Y'all are gonna kill 'im! I 'aint stupid! I can see! Let 'im go!"

"Let him go?" One of the larger men echoed from somewhere really close to Nick. The young man felt his blood run cold. In his next life, he would be sure to choose his words wisely.

"Sure thing."

Nick sucked as much oxygen as he could into his lungs, just in time to have the block pushed over the edge and his body pulled with it.

* * *

The next few seconds were chaos. Ellis cried out, watching as his friend's body disappeared under the water. His mind raced faster than it had in ages, focused on anything but his own safety, his own feelings.

The water would still be shallow here, Nick wouldn't sink that far.

He felt hands on his wrists behind him and almost started struggling again, only to find his wrists came apart easily, the cold handle of a blade pushed into his hand. Jonah put his hands on the boy's shoulder and leant down, breathing one word that kicked him into action.

_"Go!"_ Fueled by adrenaline and sheer will alone, Ellis tore down the dock. He dashed right by the men, who gazed startled at the approaching blur. With all the grace and certainty of a seasoned swimmer, the boy dove into the water, vanishing below the surface, leaving Jonah to deal with the blunt of his betrayal alone.

Under water, Ellis willed his eyes open, finding that Nick hadn't sunk too far down, his assumption of the water being shallow had thankfully been correct. However, that didn't mean it wasn't deep enough to drown in.

Swimming faster than he ever had in his life, the southern boy clawed his way down, fighting his natural buoyancy with every stroke. When he reached his comrade, he used the man to pull himself down further, bringing the gifted knife down to cinder block. He was already beginning to feel a burning in his lungs as he brought the blade against the rope.

The knot was tight, pulled down by the weight of the block and up by the man's body. Ellis was suddenly very grateful for Jonah's gift. There was no way he could've untied the knot on his own.

He began to try and cut through the material with the little blade through thick water. His vision was blurry and unexact, beginning to ebb away into darkness as he picked at the thing with the point as best he could. He could feel Nick's harsh eyes on him and almost hear his angry voice in his head.

_Get away, dumb shit!_

He wasn't sure how long it had taken, but when the rope finally snapped, so did his control over his lungs. He opened his mouth and, desperate for oxygen, sucked in mouthfuls of saltwater. He began to thrash and cough, only to suck in more and more water as he did. His eyes began to roll into the back of his head, consumed by darkness as he lost all feeling in his muscles.

He didn't see Nick wrap his arm around the boy's waist, but he felt the rush of water as the man pushed off the floor and rocketed towards the surface.

Everything after that was black.

* * *

Nick broke the surface with a gasp, already swimming with a mad desperation for shore. He had to force himself to ignore the burning of his own muscles and lungs. Instead, he focused on the squealing of tires from somewhere above him, hissing to himself in distaste for cowards as he dragged both himself and the boy up onto the rocks.

When he'd found his footing, he had to try very hard not to lose it as he stumbled up the rocky shore to the gravel road. It was a miracle he didn't collapse before reaching the road, and managed to hold onto his consciousness long enough to turn the kid over on his back as call his name.

"Ellis. _Ellis_!" He shook the kid roughly by the shoulders, but upon hearing no response, he tilted the boy's head back and brought his own down, listening for breathing.

None.

Grimacing, mentally bashing himself and the boy's stupid desire to help others, Nick leaned down and breathed air into the southerner's open mouth. Once, twice. He stopped, pulled back and began to push down on the boy's chest, a little counter going of in his head with each action. Water leaked from the boy's mouth.

Dark thoughts of failure flitted about in the man's mind as he bent down to try to breathe life back into the boy once again. He saw the kid's chest rise, then deflate. He forced it to rise once more. His eyes burned and shame welled up in his gut, but he couldn't stop. Not yet.

Just before he went to begin compressing his chest for a second series, the kid began to cough and sputter.

"Oh Thank God."

He didn't even believe in god.

Ellis rolled over, coughing and heaving until he expelled water from his stomach and lungs with a violent shudder. Even with the liquid gone, he continued to cough and sputter and gasp. Most of it was out of panic.

"Breathe, Ellis," said Nick, voice softer than he was used to a he patted the boy lightly on the back, "you're okay, just breathe."

The boy tried to even out his breathing, and it took quite some time to do so. In that time, he coughed and retched, tears streaming from his face from the burning in his lungs and throat. But he was alive. He was still alive.

"J-Jonah?" He rasped between coughs, confused eyes staring hard into the ground below.

"Gone. So are the other two. I think they took off when they thought you weren't coming back up."

"O-okay." Ellis nodded into the ground before collapsing on his side, chest heaving, eyes shut.

"Stay awake, Ellis. Just until we can find help."

"If I ask ya ta carry me, will ya think 'm a pansy?"

Nick chuckled.

"I'm not sure if I can," he admitted, mindful of his own injuries, "but I'll try." He pushed himself up, helping the boy to his feet as he did so. His side and back hurt the most, but that seemed to pale in comparison to the boy who'd literately just _died _for him.

This fact must have been what gave Nick the strength and willpower to lift the boy off the ground and carry him down the road. Despite the stinging of his wounds and the terrible ache in his back, he carried the limp figure down to the main road, which now buzzed with the occasional car.

Thankfully, even drenched, the boy was still quite light and it wasn't long before a concerned individual practically crashed into them as she pulled over to the side of the road. The woman was unable to take Ellis from Nick, as the man simply refused to release the kid, instead she settled for ushering the pair into the back seat and scrambling into her own. There was no point in calling and waiting for an ambulance when she could take them herself.

After all, they were both conscious when she'd found them, so they obviously weren't quite dead. Just drenched and gasping in one case and bruised and bloody in another. Yet they both suffered in relative silence, wordlessly drawing on one another for support.

Nick sat stone still, the kid semi-conscious and leaning into his side as the woman frantically sped towards the hospital, babbling concerned nonsense to the pair in the backseat, who paid her little attention. Instead, they focused on one another, wordlessly concerned about the other's well being.

They focused on breathing.

Then, everything blurred together, a flurry of motion, lights and voices. The only thing that remained in perfect clarity was Ellis, the little saint who'd risked everything to save him.

The perfect little role model.

* * *

Ellis awoke with a start, not sure what to expect.

Half of him rose from unconsciousness expecting a Deja Vu of the previous events. Someone yelling, guns flashing, panic, confusion. He kept waiting to hear a voice from above welcome him to his new home, or hear angered yelling around him, telling him to get down, stay down, stay away.

So awakening to the soft hum of an engine was a comfort.

"'Afternoon, kid."

Ellis blinked away the sleep in his eyes, rubbing at them with the back of his hands. He cast his gaze out the window, trying in vain to focus on the moving landscape, before looking back to his left. Nick sat in the driver's seat, eyes on the road and hands on the wheel. The interior of the vehicle they were in was nice. Very nice. Seemed expensive. Probably leather, the boy beleived.

Regardless of the fact that Ellis was sitting in a very expensive, very nice car that he could be oogling over, he simply stared at Nick, confused. His mind was a haze.

The man let those eyes bore holes into him for a few minutes, during which he kept his attention fixed on the highway. Finally, when he could feel the boy's curiosity pulsating off him in waves, Nick sighed and flashed him a glance.

"What?"

"'Aint I dead?"

"No. No you're not." The conman sighed.

"Then uh..."

"Do you seriously not remember?"

"Remember what?"

Well, that answered the question.

"Come on, Ellis," Nick did not sound impressed, but Ellis knew nothing more than honesty. Everything was a haze. The last thing he could cleary remember was swimming downwards, towards Nick, who was on the bottom of the ocean.

That sounded so cool.

"I dun remember nuthin', honest! Well, I remember ya drownin' in the Atlantic, but beyond that is all kinda fuzzy. Thought I'd died or summin'"

"Pacific, Ellis."

"Tomato, tomahto. I remember ya drownin','n thinkin I died."

"You did."

Ellis blinked, casting his gaze around the small car, suddenly wondering if this was what God had planned for him in heaven. Not that he minded being in a fancy car with a good friend, but he was a little disappointed. It must've shown on his face, because Nick scoffed and shook his head.

"You're alive now, though, I was able to revive you."

"Revive me?"

"After you drowned. In the ocean."

There was a long pause, Ellis's face slowly falling.

"You mean like..." he grimaced, "mouth-ta-mouth?"

"Yes, Ellis, like 'mouth-ta-mouth'"

The boy started squirming, sticking out his tongue and trying to scrape off the top with his tongue, making unpleasant retching noises as he did. Now he understood why God had made heaven potentially disappointing for him.

"Euch! Tha's gross!"

"It saved your life." Nick didn't seem nearly as phased about the whole thing as the hick did.

"Yeah, but yer a guy!Tha' 'aint right!" Ellis's face was red.

"I'm sorry. The next time you drown, I'll flag down a lifeguard and hope they can run Baywatch-style fast enough to save your sorry ass. Maybe I'll even have the chance to run down to the local surgeon and get a sex-change in time to make _saving your life_ appropriate to you." Nick`s bitter tone almost overrode his sarcastic jokes. Ellis suddenly shrank back in his chair, feeling very childish.

"Sorry..." He said quietly, understanding that his naivety had annoyed his senior, "S'jus automatic..."

"Figures, damn southerners."

The boy continued to shuffle awkwardly in his seat, tensing up when Nick sped up a great deal to pass someone.

He mumbled something into the window and Nick considered pretending he hadn't heard anything. However, the desire to be repaid in some way burned too great, he couldn't help a quiet,

"Come again?"

"Thank you...I do 'preciate it...not bein' dead 'n all..."

"I would think so."

Another pause.

"So, uh...whut...whut happened?"

Another sigh.

"Some woman drove us to the hospital after you woke up and asked me to carry you because you're a pansy."

"I dun think I said-!"

"We were admitted into the hospital. We spent a bit over 48 hours there. Due to the lack of oxygen to your small brain, you kept waking up and then passing out again. They thought you'd be permanently brain damaged.

Ellis's face fell, a look of alarm overtaking his features.

"An' 'm not, right?"

"Relax, you hick child, god forbid you go home and explain to your mother that you went gallivanting with another man who brought you back retarded." Nick's tone wasn't nearly as bitter as it had been, but it still made the boy's ears burn with shame.

"Oh...So 'm not?"

"No. You're fine."

"An' they let me out unconscious?"

"No, you were conscious, and walked out of the hospital yourself. You just weren't all there and passed out as soon as you got in the car."

"Whut 'bout you?"

"Miraculously, my good luck saw me through with little more than some internal bleeding and needing a few stitches. They patched me up, put me on some painkillers and had me pass out for the night. Woke up sore, but alive."

Ellis bobbed his head, a smile finally resuming it's place on his mug. He directed this happy look out the window, receiving an odd look from someone they passed.

"So where're we goin'?

"Currently? We're heading to Los Angeles."

"Aw, really? Thass cool, never been to Los Angeles b'fore!" Ellis's enthusiasm was met with a simple, expected blunt statement.

"Ever been to San Fransisco before this?"

"Well...naw..."

"Right. How often have you been outside of Georgia?"

"Not very often..."

"Yeah, thought so." Nick frowned through the windshield, expression betraying nothing but annoyance.

"Man, why d'ya gotta go 'n be like that?" Ellis's smile was gone. Instead, he propped his elbow against the window and was holding his cheek in his hand.

"Be like what?" The man pretended not to understand the question.

"Yerso...mean. Ya got meaner then when I remember."

"Considering you don't even remember waking up this morning, that's not too much of a stretch."

"Ya know what I mean!"

"It's just how I am, Ellis."

"I know! But considerin' we're travellin' together 'n are technically friends, 'n I saved your life 'n all-" Ellis had been about to say more, but was cut off when Nick suddenly sped up, veered off onto the shoulder of the road and slammed on the breaks. The boy's seat belt dug harshly into his chest as the car screeched to a halt, momentum carrying it forward even after the tires had stopped moving. He yelped in surprise at the occurrence, clinging to his seat for dear life until they'd completely stopped.

Nick whipped his head to face the boy, gripping so tightly to the steering wheel that his knuckles went white. He fixed a burning glare on the southerner.

_"Saved me?" _He repeated bitterly. "All I saw was some _moron_ losing his own life for an improbable gain!"

Ellis sat, leaning away from Nick with wide, startled eyes.

"You're just a _kid_, Ellis. I don't know what possessed you to pull off that stunt when there are adults bigger, stronger and faster than you that would've _still_ been in danger of losing their lives doing something like that! What made you think it would be okay?"

"I though'...maybe if I could get ya out..."

"What? You'd single-handedly fight off the pair of muscle heads that messed me up in the first place? You'd drag me to shore, get help, and somehow stay alive yourself?"

"I don' understand why yer so mad..."

"Ellis. I'm mad because you're twelve. You've got a freaking life ahead of you! You can't take stupid risks leaping into oceans on the unlikely possibility that you could come up with someone else! What if you'd died? What would your mother think? That irresponsible child of hers wandered off and got himself killed? I'm sure she'd be so proud of you."

At this, the boy visibly flinched. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes from the harsh words, but he quickly blinked them away, swallowing heavily.

Gradually, that pain turned into anger.

He sort of _-sort of-_ understood where Nick was coming from, but he was being entirely unfair.

"Yeah, Nick? What were ya sayin' 'bout some 'moron' losin' his life over improbable gain? Why were 'em guys attackin' you in the first place?"

Nick narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, Jonah told me sum've what was goin' on in the car. I know they was after ya because you cleaned out a guy in a stupid poker game! He said you'd gone 'n humiliated him in front of a whole bunch o' real important people! 'N then there was rumors that whatever it was you'd won ya lost later anyways! So who's riskin' their life over stupid probabilities? You can't tell me that kinda shit don't happen often, why else would you carry a gun?"

Ellis took advantage of how his elder was tensing in hostility. It wasn't frightening in the least: in fact, it told the boy that he was hitting the nail directly on the head.

"'N I get it, I'm a kid, but you 'aint that much older, buddy!"

"A decade seems a like good seniority to me," the man hissed.

"Yeah, 'n you keep callin' me kid. But tell me, hot-shot, when yer playin' all your fancy pool-'n-poker games, what do people call _you_?"

Nick didn't answer, he didn't have to. Ellis already knew.

"They call ya a kid, Nick. The world don't care how far apart we are in age, we're both kids to 'em."

"Your point?"

"My point is, I dived in there to save a _friend_, Nick. I dinn't think about what would happen after all that, 'm not so great at forethought. All I thought was, 'Hey, my buddy Nick's in a heap o' trouble. I gotta help him, it's only righ'!" Ellis paused to breathe, red-faced himself, though for a different reason other than shame. He'd let himself be pushed around for long enough. He usually didn't mind it, but from Nick it was beginning to become too much.

"I certainly dinn't think there was an' age requirement for helpin' others!"

Here, his train of thought came to an abrupt halt. The boy drew in a sharp breath, banishing the last of his tears to the back of his mind and fixing the man with his best angry-look. Unfamiliar with being angry at others, the furrowed brows and mid-snarl felt odd on his face. Eventually, he had to draw back, drawing a blank expression as he reconsidered his words.

He sighed quietly, turned to face ahead in his chair and put his hands in his lap. Ellis was expecting the driver to follow up with an argument, and was a little put off when none came. Sitting in silence always bothered him, so it wasn't long before he wrung his hands and spoke again.

"An' my Ma...had she heard...she would'a been devastated...I know..." Ellis thought back to his mother, probably searching the streets and nearby towns for any sign of her baby. "But...I beleive...had she heard I'd gone out doin' everythin' I could to help another...she would at least know I dinn't go in vain, 'n that she raised her boy to be enough of a man to set aside himself 'n live fer summun' else."

His words left a heavy impact in the atmosphere of the car. So heavy, even he could feel the weight they left behind. They smothered him in their brutal honesty, the kind of honesty he wasn't familiar with. He shuffled again in his chair, then slowly lifted his gaze to the man beside him.

Nick was staring at him with an intensity, though he saw no anger in those eyes. He tried to hold the look for as long as he could, before polite upbringing finally forced his eyes down sheepishly.

"'M sorry..." he began slowly, quietly, "I dinn't mean to snap like tha'..."

"No." Nick's voice was firm and curt, it managed to cut through the air so easily that it startled them both. "You're right. I'm reacting wrong here." The man straightened out in his seat and let a long breath out. He wondered how long he'd been holding it for.

"I..." Nick let his mouth hang open as his words caught in his throat. He thought for a moment, shut his mouth, then re-opened it. "I'm sorry, for that comment...those comments. I'm out of line." His tone was blank, unable to draw much emotion into the heart-felt words. He was just not used to apologizing.

"Aw, shoot, I was jus-"

"No, Ellis. Shut up. What you did was stupid beyond measure and I'm angry at you for risking your life for someone like me."

Ellis tried to bring his argument back up, but his words didn't seem so easily formed anymore, and besides, Nick wasn't quite done yet. He drummed his fingers against the wheel.

"But I have no right insulting you for that, especially considering I have yet to thank you for saving me. Thank you, Ellis, for diving into that ocean. I mean it, whether or not I agree with what you did."

"Thass alright. We're even now. Ya helped me in the lot, under the bus station, I saved yer life 'n you saved mine. We kin put this behind us."

"That is the smartest thing you've said since I met you, Ellis." Nick was sure he was being incorrect again, but he no longer felt that it really mattered. He appreciated the boy's ability let the past stay in the past. With his thoughts off his chest, he was more than ready to forget this entire incident.

But he wouldn't. It would wiegh on his conscience until the kid was safe. For good.

"I say a lotta smart things," the boy protested, "They juss don' sound so smart when ya use all yer fancy words 'n shit."

"Of course," the tone was heavily laden with sarcasm. Nick began to pull back into the lane, accelerating until he could merge.

At this, the pair fell silent. Nick simply had nothing more to discuss with the boy, and Ellis simply couldn't think of anything else to say. However, the latter was far less tolerant to silence than his elder. He tried to keep quiet, he did. He shuffled around, huffed and attempted to count the amount of red cars on the road, only to give up and cave into conversation.

"So, Los Angeles, righ'? Bin there b'fore?"

"Once or twice, I believe."

"Cool, is there anythin' fun to do there?"

"I'm sure if I gave you a piece of chalk and a patch of sidewalk, you'd be entertained for hours, Ellis."

"That 'aint what I meant!" The boy pouted, huffing indignantly as he did. "I mean is there like, arcades an' race tracks 'n cool stuff like that?"

"I'm going to assume that a relatively large city like that would have those things, yes. I can't say I've looked, honestly."

"Oh, buddy, ya don't know what yer missin'! This one time, my ma took me 'n my buddy down to the racetrack, I told ya 'bout Keith, righ'? Bin my best bud since first grade, he has! Anyways, ma took us down to the tracks, 'n I saw Jimmy Gibbs Jr. _live_, man! He was tearin' it up on the track 'n beatin' all those other guys, an' Keith was tryin' to figure out how he could get 'is attention with nuthin' more than a lighter 'n his backpack. Well, he came up with this crazy idea that he would set-"

"Ellis."

The boy flinched, not really expecting to be interrupted this time. When he got over the sudden surprised, he shuffled his feet on the floor and gave the window a sideways glance.

"Shuddap, righ'?"

"No."

Ellis looked back, even more surprised than before.

"Thank you. I mean it: thank you."

_In more ways then one._

* * *

**HooHooHoo  
I'm an owl.**

**So, here it is. I was super-duper hesitant to put this up. After reading it, I frowned and seemed very unimpressed with my own work. Somethingdidn't sit well with me, and I had to fall back on the encouragement of a friend and all your wonderful reviews. So thank you. I'm sorry if you felt the same way I do about this chapter, and I really would appreciate it if you are able to figure out why it's so...ehhhhhh.**

**If not, rejoice 'cause I did something awesome?**

**I'm sorry this chapter was so very GRAWR-like, I promise the next will be fluffier and less soul-wrenching.**

**Thanks for all your support and reading this far~**

**Toodles!**

**Shmee**


	5. Chapter 5

Los Angeles was amazing.

Well, at least, it was amazing to Ellis.

Nick look no more or less impressed than usual as they turned towards the downtown area. Ellis just kept feeling smaller and smaller the closer they got to the skyscrapers.

They had passed more than a number of hotels and motels upon finally entering the city borders. After seven hours of driving, the boy was more than ready to launch himself out of the car and do laps of the nearest building. However, the far more patient man beside him drove carefully past each one. He had standards and clearly those 'average' looking places just weren't meeting them today.

So Ellis had taken to sitting about as far up off the seat as his seat belt would allow and pressing his face to the window, as if that would give him a better view of what was passing outside it.

Of course, this made it all too amusing to Nick when he took a sharp left turn and pressed the boy even further into the window. The southerner wasn't too bothered, unless his nose was smushed painfully into the glass, but even then he would only grumble a protest. He might have been afraid that if he complained, Nick would choose a stop even further than the one in mind.

"So uhh.." Ellis peeled his face off the window and massaged his jaw with a hand, "what're we doin' here?"

"Driving."

"No shit," blurted Ellis, "s'all we been doin' for hours." On a normal day, Ellis wouldn't have complained. But today hadn't been normal, he was restless and sick of sitting around for so long and pushing a one-sided conversation.

"Relax, Ellis, we're almost there. Believe it or not, I actually do have somewhere to be here. I'm not just driving in circles because I know it aggravates you." Nick never took his eyes off the road, but his slightly smug expression told the boy that he was all too easily read. This did not make him feel any better.

"I bin tryin' to relax, but it's aweful hard. There 'aint anythin' for me to do in here but talk," Ellis let out a dramatic sigh, pulled his hat off his head and wrung it in his hands. "No offense, butcher borin'"

"Sorry."

He didn't sound very sorry, but Ellis refused to let it bother him. He shrugged, absently spinning his hat on his forefinger as he continued talking

"Well, whatsit you're doin' here?" He knew basic geography and had access to a map in the confines of Nick's car. Los Angeles was certainly not 'en route' to Savannah. In fact, it was a few extra miles on the already lengthily trip. Ellis had simply put two and two together and assumed the conman had business there.

"Visiting a friend," was the simple answer, "he's in the city, and this is the first time in a long time I've had the opportunity to see him."

Sensing the beginnings of the story, Ellis's gaze snapped to the man.

"Really? What kinda friend? When didja meet him? Is he a nice person?" The southerner's sudden and frequent questions no longer phased the older man, who shrugged and rolled the window down just a crack.

"When I was younger, he was one of my dad's best friends," Nick admitted, "taught me a lot of what I know about gambling, being an avid one himself."

"Oh," Ellis had mixed feelings about meeting another gambler. The last few people he'd met who'd associated themselves with gambling had not been the most admirable. He could still taste the salt water.

But then again, a new person was a possible new friend, and there was nothing wrong with meeting new people.

"Although, to be honest, I regret bringing you to meet him."

"Whut? Why? Ya don't think we'll get along well 'nuff?"

"No. It's not that you won't get along."

Ellis stared.

Nick shrugged.

"You'll understand when you meet him."

* * *

Meeting him couldn't come fast enough. That damn car remained a prison for much longer than Ellis would've liked. Despite it being an awfully nice car and driving really smooth, he was quickly beginning to tire of being around it.

When they finally -finally- pulled up the long curve to the doors of an extremely tall hotel, Ellis saw his chance for freedom. His heart soared, ready to bolt as soon as they stopped.

"Stay put."

Crash landing, resulting flames.

"What? Why? I'm right sick o' this-"

"I'm checking in, moron. We have to park in the garage, and you're sure as hell not driving."

"I could, tho, Pa taught me-"

"Don't care. Sit. Stay." Nick opened his door and clambered out, turning to shut the door. He paused with his hand on the window, flicked a glance down to the southerner drumming his knees with his hands and then ducked back into the vehicle.

"_Don't_ touch _anything," _he said sternly, "inside _or_ outside the car."

Dejectedly, Ellis mumbled a promise and watched as the man climbed up the stairs and vanished behind the large, dark doors. Unsure what to do, he continued to drum impatiently on his legs, trying to hum a song to go along with it, the notes low in his throat.

Needless to say, the boy's mind began to wander.

First, to his mom.

She must have been worried sick. Her son disappearing in the middle of the night, no note, no calls, so soon after the departure of her husband of 14 years. No one would know where he'd gone, even the family members he'd originally gone to ask for help would have no clue where he'd gotten off to once he'd contacted them. She could put up notices or make announcements, but Ellis had a feeling they wouldn't quite make it all the way across the country fast enough.

Truth be told, he'd only tried calling his mom twice.

The first time was in a panic. He'd realized he was lost and instantly wanted to hear from his mother, to hear her voice reassuring her that she'd handle everything, and that he'd be okay. Sobbing and desperate, the young boy had yelled into the receiver when he'd gotten a busy tone. Shortly after, he'd slammed the phone down and booked it out of the station, his face burning with the shame of such a loud display of unmanliness in a public place.

After bus hopping until he was blue in the face, he decided to try again. That was when he'd received the answering machine message, his mother's worried voice reminding him that he was probably going to be grounded until he was thirty when he got back. If he got back. At that point, he was beginning to have serious doubts.

Pocket change and sympathetic bystanders had only gotten him so far in food, and his small funds were beginning to run out when he'd arrived in San Francisco. It was divine luck that led him to Nick. In search of a phone, he'd entered the nearest hotel, heading straight for the payphone. His last bit of change was spent making a call to his mother that for whatever reason, never connected. He'd just gone to the clerk to ask if he could use the phone there when he saw a flash of colour behind him.

Curious and feeling a subliminal pull feeding his desire to go out, he went to investigate. He'd managed to catch a glimpse of Nick -or what he thought to be Nick, it had been quite a while- heading towards the waterfront. Instantly, he'd taken off after him, trying to see if it really was the same man who'd given him his hat, or a delusion of loneliness.

The rest was common knowledge to them both.

He owed a lot to Nick. Too much. Even after effectively saving his life, Ellis felt as if his debt had been far from repaid. The man insisted they were even and to not bring up the fact that he was being helpful at all, but neither of these made the southerner feel any better about being a young freeloader to a practical stranger.

Nick was, after all, taking him home and paying for his survival until he found his way back to Savannah.

How on earth were you supposed to repay that kind of generosity? Especially considering the fact that Nick didn't really seem like the kind of person who was normally generous. Ellis had hit gold. He was lucky.

"Hey, kid, destroy anything?"

In his reminiscing and regret, Ellis had failed to notice the man's approach until he slid back into his seat on the driver's side.

"Naw, I wuz good fer once!" The boy grinned, waving a hand dismissively as the car rolled forwards.

"Our room is on the 11th floor. Please don't trip out the window or get lost."

"I will mos' certainly try not to!"

"I mean it, Ellis."

"Me too, Nick."

Ellis beamed, pleased to see his quick remark had not only made the man smile, but elicited a quiet chuckle as well.

* * *

Their room was fancy. Super-fancy. Certainly much fancier than anything Ellis had ever stayed in. There was a spacious dining area, two small rooms with large beds and a bathroom between them, a long couch in front of a TV just about as big as he was, and even a piano by the door in the spacious entrance way.

"Sweet Jesus!"

"Never seen a high-class suite, kid?"

"Never!"

Ellis wasn't sure where to put his things. Heck, he wasn't even sure where to put _himself_. He felt very out of place in the extremely high-end room. He couldn't shake the feeling that while Nick suited the area with his fancy clothes and mature personality, the southerner didn't belong.

Were there certain rules you had to follow in a fancy place like this? Ellis didn't know. So, he waited until Nick removed his shoes to take off his own, copying his actions in making sure they were on this odd little black mat by the door.

He followed -at a safe distance, as not to raise suspicion or any reason to be made fun of- Nick to the couch, hovering for a few moments before plopping down. While the man spread his arms out behind him and propped a foot up on the table, Ellis sat straight, hands in his lap and feet flat on the floor.

Nick laughed.

"Not used to luxury?"

"No sir. Savannah 'aint really chalk-full of fancy places like these. 'Sides, Ma raised me ta be nice 'n polite, 'n I know when 'm in a fancy place 'm supposed to behave real good."

"Yeah, but you don't have company to be formal for, kid. Relax. You've been sitting 'righ' 'n proper-like' in that car for long enough."

Ellis gratefully reclined, melting over the couch the instant he was given permission to.

"I dinn't think I'd be so eager to not stand," he commented idly, now on his back and staring up at the white ceiling, legs keeping him from sliding off the couch. "'Aint this real expensive?"

"Indeed."

"Well, 'm sorry, I really dinn't mean fer you to go buy any fancy rooms or such, I would'a been real satisfied with jus' a bed, y'know."

"I know," Nick brushed a hand through his hair and let a sly grin reveal white teeth, "I didn't buy it for you. I happen to like luxury."

"Oh."

"Besides, I'm not paying for it.

"You 'aint?"

"No, I am not," Nick both verified and corrected the boy's grammar, something he was used to doing automatically now, "that friend of mine is paying for this suite."

"Damn, is he all fancy-like 'n loaded?"

"Fancy like? Hardly. Loaded? Definitely."

"Whoa, so when 're ya gonna go meet him?"

"_We_ are going to meet him here. Later this evening."

"I'm comin' too?"

"I can't trust you to leave you unsupervised for more than five minutes."

The blunt statement caused Ellis to huff, giving his senior a half-hearted pout in response. It wasn't his fault he happened to have some recent bad luck. Unable to defend himself, the boy simply pretended the comment had never been said.

"But I though' you're regrettin' us meetin'?"

"I am."

"But why?"

Ever relentless, Nick shrugged.

"You'll see."

The man pushed himself off the couch, stretching his arms above his head and shaking out the numbness in his legs. He headed towards the door to grab his suitcase, which still perched where it had been left. Ellis watched as he dragged it across the room, twisting back on the couch to see and propping his chin on the back. He sighed.

Nick vanished behind the wall of one of the rooms. Shuffling was heard as he probably did a bit of unpacking, before he returned into the main room with a book in hand.

Seeing this, Ellis sighed again, louder.

The conman sat at one of the chairs at the table, flipping his book open to a specific page, before rapidly skimming through it and turning a few more. When he found the right spot, he visibly relaxed: settling into his chair. The boy watched patiently for a little while longer, noting how the man squinted at the page, brought the book closer to his face, then further away, then found the right distance and resumed reading.

For a third time, Ellis sighed.

Nick didn't look up from his book, non-chalantly staring into the pages as if the boy weren't even there. Ellis watched for a little while, hoping for a reaction much larger than the one he was getting. After realizing the man didn't intend to give him one, the southerner turned and plopped back onto the couch, pouting though no one was around to see it.

He let the silence hang in the air for a while. He listened as Nick quietly flipped a page, and waited a few seconds before rolling his eyes back into his head, taking a deep breath in and sighing again. Loudly.

"Fine."

Ellis peeked up over the back of the couch, a large grin on his face.

"Fine whut?"

"Go find something productive to do with yourself and quit being so annoying."

The boy all but tumbled off the couch in excitement.

"So does tha' mean I can leave the room 'n such?"

"If you must. Just don't leave the building, and don't talk to strangers."

Ellis paused, a thoughtful look on his face for just a moment. After careful consideration, he spoke slowly, mischievously.

"I talked to you, dinn't I?"

"And you drowned."

Shrugging and willing to admit defeat, Ellis shuffled over to the door, Nick's voice behind him as he moved.

"Regardless, don't do anything dumb and be back in a couple hours at most."

"Yes, Mama."

Nick shot him an annoyed look, but said nothing, even as the boy slipped on his shoes and vanished out the door. He caught himself mid-sigh, shaking his head as he returned his attention to his book.

* * *

The hotel was huge. Far bigger than anything Ellis had stayed in before. The first thing he did was attempt to charge all the way to the top floor through the stairway. However, the top floor lived up to its expectations of being quite high. Ellis had to stop and recover some energy before charging up the rest of the way. It was through doing this that he discovered the hotel had a whole 19 floors.

Running back down the stairs was much more fun and far easier.

The bottom floor was by far the most interesting. The second one had weird looking doors and a different carpeting, but Ellis didn't find this unusual enough to explore there. The first floor, however, had a high-class restaurant, a grand lobby with a piano and big couches, and some sort of wide, open room with a big table.

He scuttled over to one of the couches, extremely tempted to jump as high as he could and dive into them. After a moment's consideration, he did.

With a giggle, he crashed into the cushions, wrestling with a pillow and giving it the head-lock of it's life. After he was sure his foe had been conquered, he pushed himself upright, still chuckling.

Then, he felt eyes on his back. Curious, he turned, a little surprised to see a young girl staring at him from across the lobby.

She was pretty -well, as pretty as girls could be beyond being annoying and bossy. Dark hair fell in light waves around her face, wide eyes fixed on him, hand holding tight to her mother's. She wore an elaborate looking little white dress, with frills and ribbons that made Ellis feel horribly out of place again. Even her mother, whose hand the girl clung desperately to, was dressed fancy-like, with a short, expensive-looking dress and painful-looking shoes.

Tentatively, catching the stare of the girl, Ellis blushed and waved.

The girl retreated behind her mother, looking up to her and speaking in a small voice. Suprisingly enough, Ellis could just barely hear it over the murmur of the lobby.

"Mother, what's that boy doing?"

"I don't know, dear."

Her mother wasn't paying attention, she didn't even look at the boy in question. She went about burying herself in the papers to be signed at the front desk. So, instead of asking her mother for answers, the little girl slowly let go of her guardian's hand and crossed the lobby.

When she stood within a few strides of the couch and near Ellis, her courage seemed to break and her eyes hit the surface of her shiny white shoes.

The southerner wasn't quite sure how to be react, but he sure-as-hell wasn't going to be intimidated by a _girl_. Besides, she looked nice enough. As a matter of fact, Ellis felt inclined to say that in all her white clothes, the girl looked like an angel

"Uhh...Hello?" He couldn't help his heavy southern accent, but this worked in his favour. On appearing it, the girl seemed to regain some of her courage, fueled by curiosity. She looked back up, and instead of returning the greeting, repeated:

"What are you doing?"

For a moment, Ellis grinned.

"Well, I wuz jus' a bit bored up in m'room and decided to go explorin'. Turns out down here is the only decent place to go explorin' in, an' then y'know, I got this feelin' that these here couches need to be jumped on, so uh...I did. I jumped on 'em, an' then that pillow was lookin' like it was wantin' a bruisin', so I-"

"You talk funny." The girls blunt statement caught him off guard, having interrupted his story. However, he'd gotten this question before and was well prepared to give an answer.

"Naw, I don'"

"Yes you do."

"Naw, naw. _You_ talk funny. Not me. 'M the normal one here."

"No, you're not. Normal people don't cut off or shorten their words and um. 'Taaaawk liiiuk diiis." Her imitation was sloppy, slow and poorly done. Plus, tacking on the implications that _he_ wasn't normal made his ears burn.

He comforted himself in the fact that she wasn't nearly as good at mocking him as Nick was.

"Where I come from, all o' us talk like this, iss normal to us."

"Then maybe where you come from isn't normal."

"Is so! Savannah 'aint weird!"

"I think it is." The girl turned up her nose, and Ellis felt himself blush hard. The girl didn't look so cute any more.

"Have ya ever bin to Savannah?"

"No," the girl seemed to misinterpret the challenge in the boy's tone, "What's it like?"

Ellis was glad she'd misunderstood, he didn't quite like picking fights or being insulted and was far happier talking about his home town in a brighter tone.

"Well, it's pretty warm down there, and we get the most awesome storms."

"Really? Do houses get knocked down sometimes?"

"Sometimes, but we build 'em real sturdy-like so they hold up 'n stuff."

"What else?"

"Well, oh! We got this stock racer guy named Jimmy Gibbs Jr. He's really cool, best racer of all time! This one time, me 'n my buddy Keith went to see 'im, cause my Pa was gettin' tickets from his work, 'n Keith wuz jus' tryin' to figure out how he could get the guy's attention in the crowd, but all he had was his shirt 'n a-"

"You talk a lot." The girl interrupted with a smile.

Ellis blushed, burning for a different reason other than shame this time.

"Yeah, I guess I do. I get told ta be quiet lots. But whut 'boutchu?"

The girl needed no further questioning.

"I'm from Philadelphia, the weather's not too bad and if we're lucky it snows. I like to curl up and watch scary movies with my dad when it does."

Ellis looked the girl up and down, concluding that she couldn't have been older than seven or eight.

"'Aintchu a bit young fer scary movies?"

"No!" The girl seemed to surprise herself with the volume and strength of her tone, for her voice was much quieter when she continued. "I love scary movies, but Mother doesn't let me watch them, only my dad does, so we pick days where Mom stays late in the snowstorm. So don't tell her!"

"I won't, I promise."

"Do you like scary movies too? Zombie ones are my favourite."

"Hell yeah! 'M convinced that y'know, people _can't_ just be makin' this stuff up outta thin air, so like, they're probably."

"Oh my goodness!"

The girl was suddenly swept up and off her feet by her mother, who pulled her away from Ellis with a gasp.

"Miss?" Ellis tilted his head to one side, wide eyes on the woman who'd withdrawn her child so rapidly. His manners kicked in almost instantly. He sat straight, folded his hands in his lap and waited patiently. But Ellis could have done flips and presented the woman with flowers, her reaction wouldn't have changed. In fact, her grimace had only worsened the moment that accent escaped out of his throat.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" The woman turned her child around by the shoulders, staring her in the face with a stern frown.

"I was just talking with-"

"No, no! Can't you _see _him? He's _filthy_! Ratty clothes, messy hair: not the type a young lady is supposed to associate with." The woman turned her face to Ellis, who was feeling very small and very out of place once again. "Where are your parents? Don't they take better care of you? Those clothes are _disgusting!"_ Ellis flinched at the harsh words, looking down at his clothes with a frown. They'd recently been cleaned, thanks to the staff at Oceanside. They weren't _that _bad.

Granted, there was a irremovable grease stain here and there, but that wasn't 'disgusting'

"I dinn't think they looked tha' bad...juss everyun' else looks so fancy here..."

His explanation did him no justice. The woman scrunched up her face, and Ellis could've sworn he heard a hushed 'Ew' escape from her large red lips.

"Typical," she said instead with a sigh, "judging by that accent of yours, boy, you're from the south, right?"

"Well...yeah...But I seen a map...we're technically in the south now, righ'?"

The woman huffed, clearly unimpressed with his use of logic.

"Rednecks. They take such terrible care of their young. Don't tell me, you were raised in a trailer park, right?"

"Now ma'am, I dunno whut I did to ya, but you're jus' bein' rightly rude!"

The woman huffed, turned on her heel and grabbed her daughter's arm, who'd made little protest the entire time. She was dragged away, back towards the front desk and not allowed a foot from her prejudice mother. However, the little girl did glance over her shoulder and give the boy a little farewell wave, trying to smile.

Ellis couldn't smile back, but he found the will in him to slowly return the wave. He watched as the woman swept up their things in her free hand and towed the girl into the elevator, pretending to be furiously occupied with reading something inside the small room until the doors slip closed.

Then Ellis noticed the crowd.

The woman's distress had clearly attracted quite a bit of attention. People had stopped where they were, close enough to see and hear the commotion but not close enough to intervene. When they saw the boy had finally noticed the audience, the quietly went back about their business. Some gave him sympathetic looks and smiles, others grimaced in a similar fashion as they swept a harsh gaze up and down his body.

All of them looked far nicer and more put-together than him.

He had never felt more self-concious in his life.

Suddenly, exploring didn't seem like such a good idea.

With his face burning, he hopped off the couch and walked quickly to the stairs. Most of the others took the elevator, leaving the stairwell empty and blissfully quiet. Feeling drained of his energy for the first time in a while, Ellis set to the task of dragging his unenthusiastic form up twenty-two flights of stairs.

He believed that he would've been exhausted by the time he reached the top floor, but instead Ellis found that when the door marked 11 was level with him, he wasn't all that tired. He had a decent guess as to why, considering he didn't move up the stairs very quickly at all.

When he stepped through the door and headed down the hall, he tried to force himself into a better mood. He couldn't let Nick know he'd had trouble out alone again, as the man would tease him relentlessly and probably never let him out again. All in all, it had been a decent outing, but that last ten minutes had completely ruined the entire experience.

However, the closer he got to the door, he found himself not getting any happier. Instead, an odd feeling of curiosity was welling up inside him.

Ellis could hear music. Faint music. Classical music. The closer he got, the clearer it sounded. He came to a slow halt in front of their hotel room door. He stood on in front of the heavy blockade for a moment, leaning in close to conclude that it was indeed coming from their room.

Maybe Nick had put some on to read by? He seemed like the kind of person who might do that.

Slowly and quietly, Ellis pushed his way inside, the clarity of the classical tune washing over him like a wave.

Nick sat at the piano, his back to the door as he played, fingers flying over the keys and producing the song Ellis had been hearing all the way down the hall. Trying to be as silent as possible, he turned to shut the door behind him.

It closed with an audible click, but Nick didn't seem to notice. He kept on playing.

And Ellis kept on listening, silently staring in awe at the back of the man busy demonstrating an unknown talent. He felt his eyes close, focusing on just the sound of the music in the air.

The song continued, Ellis silent and still by the doorway, afraid that if he moved or made a noise Nick would startle and stop. Gradually, the song began to slow, becoming lighter in tone and volume, until it trickled to a halt and the boy was left swaying in silence.

When Ellis opened his eyes again, he was greeted with exactly what he expected. Nick had turned on the bench, staring directly at him with an expression that said he'd known the boy was there the entire time. Ellis felt himself being studied and spoke.

"Wha' was tha'?" He asked with a smile.

"Music," was his typically blunt response. Nick's eyes zeroed in on the boy's smile, which looked unusual. It looked forced. "What's wrong?"

"There 'aint nothin' wrong!" Ellis's reply was a little too quick, a little too cheerful. He was trying not to bother Nick any more than he had to. Petty self-doubts weren't worth troubling the man for.

"Don't lie to people, Ellis, you're horrible at it."

Ellis's eyes hit the floor, he expected to once again be asked what was wrong and expected to tell the truth. However, Nick's next words told the kid that he'd moved on.

"I was actually about to go looking for you, Benjamin will be here soon."

"Benja-Oh! Tha' friend o' yers?"

"Yeah. He just called saying he was on his way."

"Cool, so I get ta meet 'im now?"

"Naturally. Although I could stuff you in a closet for the next few hours. Might be a less annoying alternative to dragging you around all day."

_'He's filthy!'_

Nick was always well put together. He always looked presentable.

Ellis frowned, shrugging his shoulders as he diverted his gaze off to one side. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Nick narrowing his own in suspicion.

"Ellis?"

"It 'aint nuthin'," the boy shook his head, finding the energy to smile within him, "guess what?"

"Do I want to?"

"I met some girl from Philadelphia downstairs! She wuz younger than me, too!"

"Was she cute?"

"Well, I guess she wuz alrigh' lookin', sorta...yeah, she was."

"Fun?"

Ellis shrugged, unsure how to answer.

"Did you catch her name?"

Ellis opened his mouth, expecting the title to come tumbling out with ease. However, he was forced to shut it shortly after, realizing he hadn't thought to ask the girl her name. In contrast, she hadn't heard his, either.

"Well, naw, guess I fergot to ask."

Nick grinned devillishly.

"'Atta boy."

The boy stared at his senior in confusion, not quite understanding the double-meaning of Nick's words this time. The man rose from the bench, slowly pulling the wooden slide back over the keys. Seeing this, Ellis was reminded of his comrade's talent.

"Where'd ya learn ta play like that?"

"It was a..." Nick trailed off, staring thoughtfully down at the wooden cover. Ellis wished he could read what the man was thinking. He had a feeling Nick was the one avoiding honesty this time.

Though, really, this wasn't all that unusual.

"...a thing I picked up over the years. Just a natural talent, I guess."

"'Kay!" Ellis thought about asking further, like where and how long it had taken to learn, trying to find some sort of insight into a story he knew was being kept from him. Before he got the chance, however, there was a quick knocking at the door.

"That would be him."

Ellis turned, backing away from the door to let Nick pass and answer it. If it was his friend, it seemed only right that he be the one to open it.

Nick didn't seem to share his point of view. He hesitated by the piano, flicking his gaze from Ellis to the door with a thoughtful look. After a few seconds' pause, a small sigh and a little roll of his eyes, he moved to open the door.

"Nicolas!" In a blurr of motion, Nick had been knocked back from the door, a pair of strong arms around the man's waist, lifting him up off the ground in a crushing bear hug.

Now, when Nick had said 'friend of his dad's' earlier, Ellis was picturing an elderly, tubby man with gray hair and round glasses. This stranger, however, was completely the opposite of what the southerner had been imagining. The man was tall, demonstrating a well-built physique through a form-fitting collared black shirt. Atop his head, he wore a dark driver's cap, the same kind Ellis would see the golfers back home wear. This hat covered what looked to be reddish hair underneath, but did nothing to hide the ruddy, five O'clock shadow that decorated the man's jaw.

"Ben-" Nick wheezed, arms pinned to his side until he was set back on the ground and allowed to breathe. Ellis grinned madly, unable to understand why Nick didn't want the boy to meet such an enthusiastic person.

"It's been forever, mate!" Ben spoke with an odd accent, not one Ellis had heard personally, but recalled hearing something similar on TV.

He decided he liked how it sounded.

"If only," Nick said, though the words were delivered in jest.

"You're all grown up, kid!" Ben clapped the man hard on the shoulder. "Hard to beleive it's been a good five years since I've seen ya. You disappeared off the map, mate, what happened?"

"Marriage," was the bitter response.

"Ah, well, judgin' by the lack of a ring on you're finger, I'm gonna assume you're free'a the ball an' chain now, right?"

"Of course."

"Good man," he clapped the younger man on the shoulder again, before using the grip to shove him a little ways aside," so, is this your little hitchhiker?"

"Yeah, that'd be him."

Once again, Ellis was examined by the impressive-looking man. Those sharp blue eyes scanned him up and down. Unconsciously, the boy braced himself for harsh judgement. He wasn't in elegant colours or well-tailored clothes. Instead, his jeans were worn and ragged, fading in places, and his shirt was littered with barely-there stains that had failed to completely come out in the wash.

"Well it's a pleasure to meetcha, kiddo!" Ben's hand came down on top of Ellis's head, effectively pushing the brim down over his eyes. The boy felt a laugh of releif bubble in his chest.

"'sa pleasure ta meetcha too, sir!"

"Ah, what an accent! I like you already! You can call me Ben, though, assumin' I get treated to the same privlidge?"

"Well, yeah! Um, M'names Ellis."

"Some people call him El, but he prefers the former because El sort of sounds like a girl's name. So naturally, call him El." Nick smoothly asserted himself in their conversation with a sly smile, earning both a huff from the boy and a chuckle from his elder.

"I dunno, Nicolas, Ellis is a pretty snazzy name. Whereabouts you from, Ellis?"

"Savannah."

"Georgia? Figures, with an accent like that!"

Unsure whether or not it would be considered polite or acceptable to return the question, the boy looked hopefully to Nick.

"Ben's from England, East-end London."

"Spent most o' my adult life in America, though! Overflowing with some of the most gullible people on earth, I swear!"

"Really? I dinn't know tha'."

"Well o'course! You're still just a kid! God forbid you taking advantage of people at your age. S'just wrong. Dinn't like it when Nick did it."

Ellis cast a sideways glance to the young man in question, who offered no further insight.

"Shame, that. Shall we go?"

Suddenly motivated with something other than conversation, Ben's face lit up quite a bit. He spun, motioned for Ellis to follow and marched out the door.

"Y'see, kiddo, Nick an' I have to properly celebrate our reunion, so we're going to my favourite place in L.A."

"Where's that?"

"Don't spoil the surprise, Ben. He'll figure it out."

"Right'o, the boss-man says you're just going to have to figure it out on your own. But don't worry, I have a good feeling you'll like it too."

Ellis was pushed lightly out of the room, Nick on his heels and Ben gladly leading the way with a march.

"Hey, El, did Nick ever tell you about the time he got lime-green paint all over one o' his fancy suits? T'was one of his first ones, too, he wa-"

"_Ben_. No."

Ellis suddenly perked up, having in fact been quite eager to hear the story.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it's a stupid story."

"No it isn't, it's a wonderfully funny story!"

"To you, perhaps."

"I want to hear it."

"Yea, an' I want to tell it!"

"Don't be such a spoil sport!

"Yeah, spoil sport!"

Nick lost track of who was saying what, the palm of his hand meeting his forehead alongside an exasperated sigh. With a large smile, Ellis suddenly understood why Nick had been a little cautious of having the two meet.

But then again, meeting Benjamin was in a way, encouraging.

Ellis had no doubt that the man was a good friend to Nick, or at the very least, he had been once upon a time. What's more, is Ellis saw aspects of himself in the British individual: loud, cheerful, impulsive. Yet, despite all these traits Ellis knew Nick would label as annoying or bothersome, they were still friends. Actual friends, at that, not just one person saying they were friends to get the other to stop asking.

A true, mutual friendship.

Ellis figured if Benjamin had somehow earned that, he could too.

Never mind the fact that he and Nick weren't very alike, or that he looked far different and less composed. It was possible. This man had proved it.

"I uh..." Ellis's voice had escaped him even before he realized it. It was too late to withdraw it, so he carried on with his thoughts anyways. "Where are we goin'?"

"Nick says it's a secret." Ben cast a wink over his shoulder.

"But will I need to...y'know, change, or anythin'? I mean, I don' look very nice..."

"Nonsense!" The brit turned, looked the boy up and down once more, then nodded his head approvingly. The signal of approval meant more to the kid than he ever thought it would. "You look perfect."

"It's rare," Nick commented idly, watching Ellis for a reaction. This time, the boy was careful to keep his negative thoughts in line.

"Regardless, I think you'll fit in just fine where we're going."

Ellis's mind started racing.

* * *

Ellis didn't really mind getting back in the car, as he simply pressed against the window the entire time anyways. Ben was in the car ahead of them, as Nick's sports car only seated two people and Nick had already explained they were only really going for the event, and that Ben, like the two males, was only passing through.

The boy had secretly been hoping that if he watched the window he'd get some clues as to where they were going. Unfortunately, not knowing the city made finding familiar landmarks impossible. Instead, he had to settle for watching the amazing variety of people walking about the city as they travelled through it.

"Where're we goin'?" Ellis asked habitually for about the twenty-fifth time.

"Crazy."

Ellis chuckled, but carried on staring out the window.

Thankfully, he wasn't kept waiting long. Once they'd exited the busier parts of the city and followed a long wide road almost to the end, Ben made a turn up ahead, into a large parking lot. The lot was a wide, spacious circle around a large oval-shaped building. Flags hung off the top, garage doors littered the sides of the building and people crowded themselves at the doors.

Despite never having been there before in his life, Ellis recognized the scenery at once.

"Damn, a racetrack!"

Nick nodded, pulling into a parking spot beside the black car of his older comrade. Ellis was out even before Nick had his door opened.

"Sweet, 're we gonna watch a race? Tha' shit's juss _awesome!"_

"Inn't it?" Ben stepped out of his car, dark shades hiding his eyes from the glare of the slowly setting sun. "One of my buddies is racing today, and a business partner of mine is sponsoring a few of the cars, so we've got the best seats in the house. Besides, the racetrack is one of the coolest places to be. So many different people all in one place, screaming and cheering."

"Sounds thrilling," Nick shut his door behind him, sarcasm coating his voice heavily.

"Ya dun have ta come, Nick!"

Of course, Ellis didn't mean this. Nick just had to come. He couldn't _not_ go to one of the coolest places around! Where else could you see super-cars race other super-cars? Oh, what he'd give to learn how those things worked.

Ellis raced off towards the doors, expecting to have to wait in line like normal people. However, Ben and Nick instead started heading in another direction, towards one of the garage doors. Neither of them felt the need to call out to the enthusiastic child, instead waiting until he turned and noticed his elder company weren't heading towards the door as he was. Changing course almost instantly, he sprinted to catch up.

They came to a stop in front of a large door painted with a white and blue '33'.

Ben gave the tin door three loud knocks.

There were a series of muffled shouts from behind the door, and the humming of a camera as it turned it's eye towards them, perched just over top of the garage. After several seconds' of silence, the garage began to rattle and groan, slowly pulling upwards to allow them passage inside.

"Benjamin!" A large looking man waddled right out the door, clapping the fit individual over the back and guiding him inside. There were hasty introductions to both Ellis and Nick, but it seemed the man only had eyes for the British man.

They launched into a conversation Ellis was far too distracted to pay attention to.

All around him, cars were being moved, worked on, or sat ready and waiting to be driven. All of them shared a similar blue-to-white scheme, decorated with the number 33 somewhere. There was a distant hum of machinery, and the air was split with the shriek of an occasional power drill. Ellis felt at home here, surrounded by tools and parts he could name.

"'Aint it awesome? I can't wait to see where we're gonna watch tha race!"

"You're not watching it."

Ellis nearly jumped out of his skin, the large business man suddenly behind him, a large meaty hand perched on his shoulder. The boy looked up to the red-faced tycoon and smiled widely, not understanding and doing his best not to jump to conclusions.

"My friend here says you like cars, boy."

Ellis nodded, but somewhere in the back of his head he wondered when he'd told Ben.

"Says you're real good with 'em, too."

The boy nodded again, faster.

"Well, I think my boys could use another set of hands to help them out, if you're up to it."

Ellis's face lit up, his excitement sparkling boldly in his eyes as he just about started bouncing in place. Had his enthusiasm not been so blinding, he might have noticed Nick grinning from where he stood just a few paces away, eyes on the youth.

That grip on his shoulder turned the little southerner around, directing him to a blue car just across the lot. Three men had positioned themselves in various places around the car. Under the hood, under the body and inside the car itself.

"See that car there?"

"Yessir!"

"That's the one going to be in the race today. They're giving it a quick tune-up now, which I think they could use help with."

The man needn't say more, Ellis had already gone jogging in that direction. He stopped, however, when Benjamin called out from behind him, a faded blue bundle in his hands.

"Oi, kiddo!" He waved the bundle over his head and motioned for the kid to come closer. Ellis turned around and sprinted back over to the British man, skidding to a halt in front of him. "You should wear this, buddy, just so ya don't get all your clothes any greasier!"

"Thank you!" Ellis pulled the bundle from the man's hands, letting the garment fall straight in his fingers. Now, at a point where he felt ready to explode with anticipation, he turned back around. He tried to awkwardly slip into the small pair of coveralls he'd been given while running, but had to stop mid-way to get the pants on properly. The rest of the way he could run, as he didn't need his legs to get his arms in the sleeves.

* * *

The three mechanics were people Ellis could like. They were laid-back, fun loving and obviously liked their jobs. He got along just fine with the trio.

At first, they'd obviously thought he was just some wealthy tourist's kid when he'd run over. It was not uncommon that their sponsor would have the children of business partners 'help out' with the cars, just to get on the good side of the kid's powerful parents. However, Ellis was quick and eager to demonstrate that he wasn't just some rich kid on a paid tour. The moment he got the chance, he was leaning over the hood, pointing things out that his father had mentioned to him, asking how things worked and trying the tune-ups himself.

It was no suprise the trio of well-humored mechanics asked the boy if he wanted to come out to the pits for the race.

It was also no surprise that Ellis accepted almost instantly.

Working in the pits was something the boy would never forget. The roar of engines screaming all the way around the track was so much closer when you were actually _on_ the track. He also felt a great deal of importance when the men asked him to do a specific task, though they were usually simple. He would either have to gas the thing up or change as many tires as he could, but he felt like an important member of the team no matter how trivial the job.

At the end of the race (they didn't win, but they placed within the top ten), Ellis got to meet the driver, ask him if he knew Jimmy Gibbs Jr. and even get his picture taken with the car and crew. After sharing a plethora of stories with people who actually enjoyed listening to them and enjoying dinner with the crew at the local pub, (he got to sit at the bar with the rest of them, though they didn't let him drink), his evening ground to a halt when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Ready to go, Ellis?"

Ellis wanted to say no, but the look on Nick's face told him that wouldn't be the brightest idea. It seemed that while the boy had a grand old time at the tracks, the conman did not.

Not wanting to make the day any worse for his older friend, he nodded, thanked the men for the unforgettable day and dismissed himself from the bar. He waved farewell and shouted a few passing remarks, then joined Ben outside, Nick just behind him.

"Have a good day, Kiddo?" Nick kept in step with the boy, hands in his coat pockets as he stared absently ahead.

"Awesome! Aw, it was so cool! Ya should'a _seen _the inside o' that car! Hoo-wee, she was purdy! Everythin' purred like a kitten – No! A lion! That thing purred like a mutherfuckin' lion!"

Nick raised an eyebrow, Ben laughed.

"Picked up some new words?"

Ellis pretended not to understand.

"'N after I showed 'em what I knew, 'n told 'em my dad was a mighty fine mechanic an' taught me everythin' I knew, they let me help out with the tune up, like, actually gettin' under the hood an' under the car an' welding an' shit! It was amazin'! An' then they took me out to the pits, y'know, like, Pit crew? Yeah, I got ta be one of 'em! I 'aint ever bin so excited in mah life, an' after-"

"Sounds like quite the day," Nick's voice was flat, but Ellis could tell he was trying to be supportive, even if he didn't sound it.

"It was!"

He hadn't even realized that in his rapid story telling, Ben had put himself a step or two ahead of the pair. He took the relative distance as an opportunity to ask the question burning in the back of his mind.

"Wha' happened?"

"Nothing." Flat, curt, dismissive. Nothing unusual, but Ellis had a gut instinct that this time the man was lying.

"Now wha' was it you said? 'Don't lie ta people, 'cause yer terrible at it?"

"Ellis. I lie to people all the time. I consider it a talent."

"S'wrong, 'n you're doin' it now."

Nick sighed.

"It was just a boring day, Ellis. I sat around listening to two older men babble about something that had nothing to do with me, about nothing I could relate to. To top it all off, that sponsor was just an asshole to me. My patience wore thin. I may or may not have punched him. Oh yeah, I'm not allowed back here."

"Whoa, l, tha's a decent reason to be grumpy." Ellis bobbed his head.

"I thought so too."

Ellis swore he saw a smile, but if he did it was gone before he could point it out.

Instead on dwelling of the possibility of actually having made his companion smile, Ellis turned his attention instead to his steadily growing body temperature. He was still wearing those coveralls, as he refused to take them off, and their weight was beginning to become noticed.

He unzipped the top half and began to shimmy it down to his waist. There, he tries to bunch it up so it would hang off his hips, but it slid down his thin frame and he had to reach down to stop them from hitting the floor. He tried rolling in the ends to create a tight ball around his waist, but the end result was the same as his first attempt.

After walking an awkward few steps holding them up at his waist, Nick gave him a look.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm hot," Ellis answered simply, slowly letting go of the fabric, only to latch back on to it when it slid down again.

"So take your stupid overalls off."

"But I dun' wanna! I 'aint takin' these things off until the day is through!"

"You're _not_ sleeping in them.

"I-I wasn't gunna!"

The blush on his face said otherwise.

Stubbornly, he stubbornly hobbled a few more steps with the top half of the coveralls held tightly in his blackened fingertips. He glared ahead, red-faced and trying not to make his gait anymore awkward under the stare of his senior.

Finally, Nick sighed. Ellis tried to ignore the little chuckle under the man's breath.

"Stop."

He did.

"Turn this way and face me."

He did, fixing the man with a pout that said he did not appreciate being mocked.

Instead of receiving another taunt, the man bent down a little, pulling the fabric from his hands and finding the sleeves in the messy bundle. He pulled them taught, then wrapped them tightly around the boy's waist.

"That good?" He asked absently, already beginning to tie the knot. Ellis nodded, watching with a smile as the man tightened the knot a little more then tied a second to hold it in place. He straightened out, giving the boy a quick scan before determining he was satisfied with his work. Ellis looked down, jumped a couple times to ensure it would stay, then pushed the make-shift belt down a little so the coveralls hung off his hips. Seeing this, Nick only shook his head and kept walking, catching up with his older comrade who stood waiting just ahead. They exchanged a few words, then Nick kept going at a steady pace. Ben waited for the boy to catch up before continuing.

"That's a good look for you," the man said with a smile.

"Thanks, s'cool!" Ellis grinned wildly, adding a bit of a skip to his step to prove they wouldn't fall down, and with the top off he felt much cooler already.

"So, judging by the vulgar story, you had a good day?"

"One o' the best! I gotta thank ya so much fer choosin' this place, Ben!"

Ben laughed, and Ellis didn't quite understand why.

"Is that what you've been thinking?"

"Err...yeah?"

"Boy, I like a good race now an' again, but this wasn't the place I had in mind when I called Nick up the other day."

Ellis slowed.

"It wasn't?"

"No. Nick hates the tracks. Lots of loud, noisy people sitting too close and screaming too much for his taste. My suggestion was we hit up one of the casinos. Even after he'd told me he had a bit of a child-problem, I'd suggested one of the local resturaunt-bars nearby. Y'know, pool, cards, food, the whole shibang."

"So...then why'd we come here?"

"It was his idea."

"Nick's?"

"Yeah. He asked if I knew if there were any tracks in town, and if I had any recommendations. So, we came here."

"Nick wanted to come here?"

"Probably not," Ben shrugged.

_But...I did, dinn't I? _

That explained how Ben knew Ellis was good with car; how the sponsor knew.

Ellis smiled up at Ben, unsure what to say. His elder had noticed his thoughtful look and simply shrugged, understanding the boy's sudden silence.

Nick didn't like the tracks, but Ellis did. The man had set aside his own preferances for someone else, which was extremely odd and not like the Nick the southerner was used to.

But he didn't mind. He was glad they'd come here. He'd honestly feared sitting around and listening to two older men chat about irrelevant things that had nothing to do with him, and have this fancy-friend of Nick's be a total ass to him.

Instead, Nick had taken that treatment, while Ellis had the time of his life doing one of the things he loved.

The boy stared hard into the suited back of the dark-haired man ahead of him. He frowned.

Yes, he was grateful for the sacrifice the man had made on his behalf. Yes, he had the time of his life today and wouldn't change the experience for the world. Yes, he had one of the coolest souvenirs ever currently secured to his waist.

Yet he couldn't stop the look of frustration on his face.

He had honestly been trying quite hard to even out the scales of 'who-owes-who-what.' It was his way of easing the guilt he felt for freeloading off a man with a million better things to do than provide for a rambunctuous pre-teen. But this completely demolished all odds of redeeming himself any time soon, he had to face a harsh truth.

He was losing again.

But after a bit of thought, he decided;

He really didn't mind all that much.

* * *

**Bonjourno  
Chamo-me Estabonita  
Queras Fajhita?**

**Hullo everyone and a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, whether it was your first time, or returning whatsit and an extra-special thanks to those of you who can put up with my super-social nature. It seems, as a general consensus, that most of you aren't as 'oh no D:' at all the heavy, soul-wrenching stuff as I thought you would be. Taking this into consideration, I'm going to stop trying to hold it back and just commence barfing ideas out onto paper. I'm real good at that.**

**So I can no longer tell you whether or not the next chapter will be heavy or flufltastic. You'll just have to read and find out :3**

**Please, keep the reviews up. Writing is indeed a lonely business and everyone likes to know their work is appreciated.**

**Thank you for reading this far!**

**UNTIL NEXT TIME (A.K.A. Toodles~)**

**Shmee**


	6. Chapter 6

After a brief farewell to Ben, the pair headed back to their hotel. Ellis still buzzed about the day and rambled endlessly about the things he saw and did out on the tracks. Nick let him contently babble, listening for some parts of his run-on stories and simply tuning him out for others.

By the time they'd pulled back into the garage, Ellis had finished his seemingly endless story and had instead busied himself with trying to get one out of Nick. While he did know that Nick did not have an enjoyable time at the tracks, he didn't know the details. Clearly, he preferred knowing the details.

"So wha' happened?" Ellis asked as they left the Corvette in the cool, dim and scarcely occupied garage, heading across the lot to the doors.

"Depends on what you're asking."

"You said ya punched a guy. That big guy, righ'?"

"Yes."

"How'd it happen?"

"Simple, Ellis, I pulled back my fist and launched it at his face." Nick held the door open for his younger comrade, who didn't take the hint that he was supposed to go through until the man gave him a little shove.

"Well, yeah, I get tha' part, but what'd he do to deserve the punchin'?"

With a sigh, Nick pressed the up button to call the elevator.

"He ignored me practically from the moment I got there. Normally, I wouldn't mind, but anytime I tried to put my two cents in about anything, he'd make a subtle insult about being a low-life conman, or something stupid like that."

"So ya punched him?"

"I put up with it for most of the night. It was when he told me to go 'bore' 'my own kind' with my 'pathetic attempts at conversation,' and that I 'really didn't belong in the upper-class' and I wasn't 'suited' for a 'real life' that I decided he really needed to be introduced to my fist."

"Sounds rough."

"I was."

Ellis chuckled, now picturing the large man with an equally large purple bruise on his face. Probably somewhere on the cheek. Or the eye.

The elevator doors slid open with a chime. Ellis lead the way in.

"Sorry ya had such a rough time."

"Don't worry about it, kid."

"Thanks, by the by."

Nick pressed the button for the eleventh floor.

"What for?"

"Ben told me thatchu were the one ta suggest the tracks, 'n that ya'd turned down some casino an' fancier places for it."

The man narrowed his eyes and tore them away from the southerner, staring hard into the polished steel of the doors in front of him.

"You asked."

"Butcha dinn't have ta. You knew tha'."

"Right. Maybe I felt like being nice for a change."

Ellis laughed aloud, the sound bouncing off the small confines of the elevator, forcing him to bring his volume down a little.

"You? Be nice? Man, them folks must'a hit ya real hard with that bat the other day, I would'a never though ya-"

The doors slid open nine floors too early and on the second floor. They parted to reveal a familiar woman, who hesitated upon seeing who occupied the elevator.

The woman from the lobby.

"_Those clothes are disgusting!"_

Ellis suddenly wished he'd kept his coveralls done up. At least that way, he'd have an excuse to look a little messy.

He felt that woman's harsh gaze look him up and down again, before her expression tweaked just a little, clearly fighting off a look of disgust. She flicked her gaze to Nick, studied him for far less a time, then smiled brightly.

Her daughter was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, sorry," she said quickly, "I think I'll wait for the next elevator."

However, Nick was an observant man. He had seen her expression and the harsh stare she'd given the young boy. He narrowed his eyes and gave Ellis a shove a little further into the wall, effectively pressing the boy against him as he made room for the woman.

"Nonsense, there's plenty of room in here," Nick's tone was friendly and his smile was charming, but something cold and cunning shone from behind those eyes.

The elevator doors went to automatically close, but the conman stopped them with a wave of his arm. The woman's smile wavered.

"How polite, but I really don't mind waiting, I think I may have forgotten something in the room, and the other elevator couldn't be too far-"

"Oh, sorry, it's out of order."

Nick felt Ellis's wide eyes fix on him, no doubt wondering how he'd known, or if he was just lying.

The latter was correct.

But the woman bought it. She shrugged, gave a sheepish chuckle and filed in beside Nick, pressing the button for the ninth floor. When the doors had closed, Nick leant back against the wall, as he was the only separation between the boy and the older woman.

"So, Ellis," he drawled, a sly smile on his face. The woman tried to look like she was paying their conversation no attention. "Any news from your father yet?"

"My...pa?" Confused, the boy tilted his head to one side.

"Yeah, I know he's been real busy trying to sign that deal out in Florida, but has he checked in yet?"

Ellis shrugged, not sure how to answer, nor what his cunning comrade was up to.

"Oh well. Hopefully when he gets back he'll be able to fix up some of the issues with the hotel here. I noticed the lobby's looking a bit boring lately and it seems this place only attracts all the wrong people as guests."

"I don' follow."

"You know, they stay in ritzy places like this to impress important people so they can seem important themselves?"

"Ah, I...I guess?"

"Shame that," Nick turned his attention to the older woman, who's lips were drawn in a tight line, "have you seen anything that needs fixing around the hotel? His father owns part of the chain, so he's able to get a lot of complaints actually looked after."

The man patted Ellis on the head, pushing the brim down over his eyes as he did so.

"He's a good kid, real helpful. Some people judge him because he's got a tendancy to be a little informal or dusty around the hotel, but he helps with the repairs himself, and he is just a kid. Kids will be kids, right? So if you see anything that needs to be fixed..."

"No, no. Everything in this place is fine," the woman clearly had to force a smile, and when the doors opened for her floor, she murmured a rushed goodbye and practically sprinted into the hall, red-faced. When the doors had closed and the elevator had resumed it's slow climb, Nick laughed.

"Why'd ya do tha'?" Ellis asked with a frown, an uneasy feeling in his gut at having been part of a blatant lie.

"I don't know. Something about that woman made me really want to make you seem important. Must have been the way she looked at you."

Ellis's frown wasn't at all helped by these words. His gaze hit the floor and he shuffled awkwardly.

_Filthy._

He barely noticed the chime telling him he could exit until Nick stepped out ahead of him. He stumbled to get in line behind him as he walked. However, his sudden change in demeanour had alerted his attentive companion.

"Ellis?"

The boy snapped his head up.

"Yeah?"

"Everything alright?"

He smiled.

"Jus' fine!"

"I don't believe you."

Mind racing, Ellis quickly fell back on something relatively honest.

"Well, ya did just _lie_ ta someone perfectly in'nacent, 'n what's worse is ya used me in it."

Nick shrugged, casting an unconvinced stare over his shoulder once he'd reached their room. He did not press any further on the matter, instead opening the door with a small sigh.

* * *

Ellis was forced to take off the overalls so Nick could send them to be cleaned, but the boy was not happy to do so. He grudgingly parted with the garments and surrendered easily to the man's demands to shower and get cleaned up, as he smelled like the inside of a car. No matter how he tried to argue that this wasn't a bad smell, the man refused to listen and just about locked him in the bathroom.

When he was clean and emerged in his Oceanside P.J's, Nick was at the piano again. The tune he played this time was sad and slow, moreso than when Ellis had first heard him play.

The boy listened contently for a while, sitting on a chair by the table, afraid that if he got too close or made any noise Nick would decide to stop.

He didn't want him to stop. Just listening was peaceful, no matter how sad the tune.

When the young man did finally let his fingers come to rest, Ellis lifted his head off the table, curious as to why the man hadn't moved or said anything since he'd stopped.

"Y'allright?"

"Fine. You?"

Ellis grunted, pushing himself out of the chair, suddenly feeling very heavy as he made his way over to the piano.

"Where'dja learn ta play like that?" He asked again.

"My father taught me."

The boy was caught off guard by the totally honest answer.

"Oh," unsure what to say, Ellis pressed his luck by getting a little closer to the man on the bench, standing just at the end of the piano. The young man lifted his green eyed stare to the boy, his gaze open, blank and waiting. "Will ya play summin' else?"

"Like?"

"I'unno. Summin' nice-soundin'"

"You standards are so specific."

"Sorry," the boy said quietly, shuffling away as if he'd been dismissed.

"Don't apologize, Ellis."

"'Kay."

Something felt wrong: a rift was between them. It was evident to the young man, though the boy seemed blissfully unaware. Ellis shuffled back over and slowly seated himself on the floor beside the man, leaning back against the piano and listening as he started to play again. The piano almost filled the void for the time being, but it did not erase it.

Ellis was hiding something from Nick. Self-doubt and inner turmoil concerning who he was and the fact that he really didn't believe he belonged anywhere outside of his home. The fear that he couldn't leave his home without running into people like that woman, who judged him on his appearance and his accent alone, not on his attitude or mannerisms. The fear that most of the world saw him as she did.

Disgusting, filthy, a redneck.

Nick, however, remained lost, unsure how to mend the rupture in the boy's confidence and cope with his own insecurities. He was no good with kids. Ellis was just another kid. He was no good with Ellis. The boy needed someone better than him, someone reliable, trustworthy and with a natural knowledge for these kinds of things.

Someone that wasn't him.

Someone better.

But they both sat, silent save for the sounds of the piano echoing about the room, unsure how to talk to one another about the thoughts beating on the inside of their skulls.

Neither of them realizing that everything would be far easier would they swallow their pride and speak.

* * *

Ellis fell asleep there, sitting part-way under the piano and completely surrounded by whatever song Nick could produce from memory. There were mistakes, yes, but they were few and not enough to stop the song, so the constant, low-tone melodies served as sort of a lullaby to the boy.

Nick only noticed himself that his little audience member had passed out when he stopped, his fingers and back sore from the proper posture and non-stop motion. When the boy didn't complain (or make any noise at all) he pushed himself back a little and cast a gaze down, noting the kid had curled up against the piano and breathed a soft, steady pace into the air.

Out for the count.

Nick rose, stretching himself out at he did so. He stepped carefully around the bench and stooped down to pull at Ellis's shoulder, bringing him a little closer to lift him off the ground.

"Whutchu...walkin'...pansy..." The boy's mumbles were hardly coherent sentences, so Nick ignored them, instead hoisting the boy up into his arms and carrying him back into his room. The kid continued to mumble words into the man's shoulder, though none of them made any sense. In fact, as soon as he was put down on the bed, he curled up instinctively under the covers, snuggling into the pillows almost automatically.

"Stupid kid." Nick straightened, breathing out a long sigh and letting his smile melt away with it.

"...Kid...Nick..."

He really should have just woken the kid up and made him walk. In hindsight, he wasn't able to quite place why he'd felt the need to move him himself in the first place. It had just be an instinct of his, something he'd grown used to doing out of habit. Moving the kid when he needed to be moved, whether he wanted to or not.

Defending him.

Caring for him.

Nick felt himself frown as he moved out of the room and towards his own.

Whatever happened to 'looking out for number one?' To: 'turning away from the world of caring' for a better one with more rewards? Why was this stupid kid dragging him back to it? Why was he letting him?

He collapsed face-first into his own bed, not even bothering to shut out the lamp light beside him.

He was getting in way too deep.

All he was doing here was ferrying the dumb kid back home. Not treating him to fun events he'd like at his own loss, not defending him from the discriminating wrath of older women, not concerning himself with the boy's well-being above his own in a situation where his life was on the line.

But as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't just ferrying the boy home. And the boy wasn't just hitching a ride. They had a distinct effect on each other, though to what extent was still unclear.

Nick had a feeling, with over 48 hours of driving to do, that he would have plenty of time to find out.

* * *

Ellis was up first in the morning, as per usual, the man heard the boy out in the main room, his footsteps clumsy and not very quiet at all.

Nick had honestly expected the kid to wander around idly until he got bored, then wander in to see if he could wake his elder up. However, when the conman had almost dozed off again with no interruption, he began to question what the boy was doing to keep himself busy.

For a while, he just listened.

His patience was awarded with high pitched, barely audible notes, played one after another in a slow, steady four-beat time. Curious, he sat up. The notes continued: not quite a complete song, but not exactly tuneless.

As Nick rose out of bed, the tune got a bit more adventurous. Lower notes accompanied the higher ones, beginning to slowly form a little song, though it was slow and played out of time.

Stepping out of his room, Nick had already concluded what was producing the song, even before he saw it sitting on the piano bench.

Ellis was playing.

Or, trying to.

It certainly wasn't as elaborate as Nick would play, and he would stop to find the right note or repeat a part to get both his hands playing at the same time, but he was still trying. The end result didn't sound all that bad, either.

The man stopped at the doorway and listened, making sure his presence was not yet noticed. The boy continued to stumble through playing, producing a song that seemed optimistic and uplifting, though simple. Nick felt himself smile, drawing a line of comparison between the boy and the tune he was trying to recreate.

It was clear he was trying to play quietly, at that. But he was so wrapped up in the notes, he hadn't noticed that his attempts were in vain and that his elder was already awake and watching. At least, not until the man cleared his throat suddenly. The resulting reaction made the man laugh out loud.

The boy flinched, the clang of piano keys being randomly hit cut through the air as he used his grip on the ivories to spin around on the bench. He spun so quickly that he practically launched himself off the end of it, catching himself before he could hit the ground in a shameful fall and stumbling to his feet. Once he'd found his balance, he stood at attention beside the piano.

"'M sorry, dinn't mean ta wake ya," he said quickly, lowering his head in honest apology.

"The piano didn't."

"O-oh, a'right..."

"I didn't know you could play. Though I wouldn't really call that playing."

Ellis didn't seem at all offended by the man's remark, instead shrugging his shoulders with a sideways glance to the instrument.

"My ma used to play a lot when I was jus' a tot. I used ta sit with her an' play random keys with her tryin' to help her, eventually she decided to try an' teach me. Dinn't get very far though," he paused, toes wiggling inside his socks as he stared down at them, "'cause, well, y'know...Pa 'n everythin'..."

"Ah, I see."

There was a moment of silence and Nick felt the rift again, slithering between them as if it were alive. He frowned, shook his head then turned around.

"Pack your things and get dressed, we're going to get moving."

"We are?"

"Yeah. And we're calling your mom before we go. So hurry up."

Ellis rushed to comply, vanishing into his own room to gather what little possessions he carried with him. Being a naturally tidy person, most of Nick's possessions hadn't left his suitcase unless he needed them. So packing took very little time and putting himself together took even less. He decided to forgo the suit in understanding that he would be doing a lot of driving if he intended to cut down on that 48 hour road time.

Instead, he'd picked the simpler choice of slacks and a shirt. He wasn't all that surprised when he emerged to find Ellis sitting on the couch. Not only was he wearing the only outfit he had aside from his P. J's, but he was wearing those damn coveralls, too.

"Seriously?"

"Whut?"

"You're wearing those again?"

"I like 'em! An' besides, this way I know I won' leave 'em behind on accident, y'know?"

"Sure."

Moving the attention to the phone, Nick lifted the receiver and sent the line out, holding the receiver out to the boy for him to take.

"Dial," he ordered, standing over his shoulder as the boy took the phone from the man's hands and slowly went to dial. Inwardly, Nick was glad the boy remembered his number, as he was sort of expecting him to have forgotten it.

Once the phone was ringing, Nick stepped back to give the boy some space. He listened closely still, eager to hear the boy respond to his mother's voice, to tell her he was on his way home. Maybe that would motivate him to stop taking detours.

When the boy had stood there holding the phone for a while, Nick could've sworn he heard a voice fizzle out from the other end. The boy tensed up, then slowly let his shoulders relax, putting the receiver down and effectively hanging up.

"Answerin' machine," he said quietly.

Nick nodded, careful to keep his expression blank an unable to shake the feeling that the boy was lying.

"Right. Well, you'll try again later. Let's get on the road."

Doing one last sweep of the room to ensure they'd left nothing behind, Nick began to lead the way out into the hall, opening their door for the last time.

He did his best to pretend not to notice how the boy hesitated by the phone as if he'd left someone waiting on the other line.

* * *

"So, what's up with you?"

"Eh?"

The duo sped down the highway heading east across the country. They'd been sitting in relative silence for quite some time. Ellis would occasionally start talking about the most random and pointless things that even he couldn't keep focus on for more than a little while. His attempts to start a conversation would fizzle out on his own account, descending into quiet as the boy lost interest in what he was saying, or simply allowed himself to be distracted by the scenes racing by just outside the window. For the first time in a while, the boy's silence bothered Nick.

"You've been all out of sorts since we got in L.A. What happened?"

"There 'aint nuthin' wrong."

But Ellis wasn't a very good liar. He lowered his voice when he spoke and looked anywhere but at the man talking to him. Those blue eyes persistently stared out the window, their owner pretending he didn't know the young man was still expecting an answer.

With a sigh, Nick fell back on what they'd been telling one another since day one.

"Don't lie to people, Ellis. It's wrong."

"You do it."

"I'm not a good person."

"Yeah, ya are."

Nick tensed.

"Regardless, _you_ shouldn't lie to people. You're horrible at it."

"No I 'aint. I jus' don' do it often, is all."

"Point still stands."

"...What point?"

Nick was tempted to stop the car again, but he felt no particular need to. He wasn't angry. Just annoyed.

"Remember what I said back at the hotel?"

"...Maybe?"

"I told you I was frustrated with you because you wouldn't tell me what I needed to do to help you."

"...Oh, yeah..."

"You're doing it again. I'm not blind nor dumb, Ellis. I can tell when something is wrong. And as much as I enjoy the silence, the heavy atmosphere is something I can live without."

Ellis didn't respond. Instead, he took off his hat a wrung it anxiously in his hands. He paused to ruffle his hair and shake his head rapidly, ridding himself of hat-hair before sighing.

"When ya first saw me back in Tallahassee, what'dja think o' me?"

Nick blinked at the random question, then stared ahead to give it some actual thought.

When was the first time he saw Ellis? At first, he wanted to say the bar, where he made his first big win of the season. But then, thinking a little further back, he remembered seeing the kid smacking into the window right beside him, scaring the living daylights out of him and then proceeding to make strange faces by pressing the flesh of his face against the window.

"I thought you were odd," he recounted honestly, "I can't say many children have tried to jump me from inside a building while I was on the outside."

"But...didja think I wuz like...ratty or summin'?"

"Ratty?" Nick thought back. "Hardly. You were just odd. Free spirited, I guess. You looked like any normal kid to me. Why?"

"Remember tha' girl I met in the hotel?"

"The cute one who's name you couldn't remember?"

"Yeah...well...her mom...the woman in the elevator...she pulled her away, called me disgustin' and filthy 'n stuff. Said I wuz pro'ally raised in a Trailer park 'n my parents were bad or summin'."

"Were you?"

"No!"

"I'm kidding. Ellis. So is that the problem?"

"Well, I'unno, it just got me thinkin'. The rest o' the world is so fancy-like, 'n even Jonah was sayin' how it was odd that a kid "_like me"_ wuz hangin' around with a guy like you. I dinn't give it much thought 'till I realized we're real different."

Nick had to try and remember who Jonah was before commenting again.

"Of course. We're from different places."

"I s'pose there 'aint many places like the Savannah, are there?"

"Not particularly. But that doesn't mean you're always and the only odd one out, Ellis." Nick felt himself falling back on the timeless lesson everyone was taught by someone at some point. It was just weird that he'd be the one relaying it to some southern kid he barely knew. "I don't know why it's bothering you so much."

"'M not used to bein' the odd one out."

"It happens. You said you hadn't really been out of Georgia, so it makes sense. Not everyone views southerners in a nice light."

"Why not?"

"Because some of them have a tendency to be loud, uncontrollable drunks who redefine primitive living. They're rude, sexist, prejudice and generally unpleasant people."

"Well the folks in Savannah 'aint like that."

"Yeah, but the rest of the world doesn't know this."

"That 'aint fair though, thinkin' we're all like tha' 'cause o' a few morons."

"Life isn't fair, Ellis," the man heaved a sigh and shifted in his seat, accelerating a little as he did so. "Just...don't let it get to you."

"Tha's hard."

"Yeah, then you're just going to have to be the most people-friendly southerner the world has ever seen, and put up with the people who are too near-sighted to look past the stereotypes."

Ellis paused, a bit taken back by the honest words of his senior and the obvious sense he was making.

"Well, I kin certainly try."

"'Atta boy."

Ellis smiled.

Nick breathed out, a long sigh of relief. He expected that odd rift to be repaired, however, something still felt off.

But it seemed wrong to pry any further.

He simply returned his attention to the road and kept it there.

"Did I ever tell you 'bout the time where my buddy Keith 'n I went to the pettin' zoo? We got ta thinkin' we would be like 'em Peta folk 'n help 'em all out a bit. So we came up with this elaborate plan to free 'em all. I'll tell ya, it was one o' the craziest things I ever done! There was this goat, an' we tried to-"

"Ellis."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But there was a goat."

They smiled in unison.

* * *

Nick decided it was time for a pit stop after good half hour of driving. They pulled into a little plaza designed for off-highway stops. It boasted a souvenir and tourist shop, a few restaurants and a few miscellaneous stores.

Ellis made sputtering race car noises as they pulled into the lot, jumped out of the car and made for the hood, clearly thinking 'Pit stop' literately meant fixing the car up in record time so they could get back on the road and win whatever race they were in.

Nick stopped him, keeping the hood pressed down so they boy couldn't 'dive' into this car too. Understanding his fantasy wouldn't be lived out this time, Ellis gave a dejected groan and wandered towards the building in defeat.

Nick followed behind, half expecting someone else to be ready to jump his car, content only when he realized his paranoia was pointless.

Upon entering the building, the first thing Nick noticed were the multiple restaurants on the other side of the lobby, the benches for sitting and a little fenced-in play place for younger children. He humoured the idea of locking Ellis in there for a while when he realized the boy's attention was elsewhere

"Awesome!"

Upon turning his head to see what was so 'awesome,' Nick realized the boy had spotted an arcade off to the left of the main doors, and was already moving towards it. With a shake of his head, the man moved to follow at a much more relaxed pace.

"Aw man, we got one o' these back home!" Ellis's attention had firmly fallen upon a large arcade game that sat near the middle of the carpeted alcove. It's wide screen had spooky font reading 'House of the Dead' and two plastic guns attached with thick cords to the base. The red and blue weapons were tucked firmly away in their metallic holsters. "Five bucks says I can beatchu hands down."

"You don't even have five bucks," Nick returned, staring at the game with an unimpressed frown. Ellis however, didn't seem phased.

"Yeah, but if I borrow five from ya, then I'd have five bucks."

"And you'd be playing with my money. I don't see how this qualifies as a bet."

"Well, ya got nothin' to lose, righ'? If ya win, ya get yer money back, and if I lose, I'll pro'ally give it back anyways."

"What about the dollar wasted on the game? What's that worth?"

"Braggin' rights, o'course."

"I still fail to see the point.

Ellis huffed, giving the man quite the pout.

"The point is ta have fun! Dinn'tcha ever play video games witcher Pa? Or with yer buddies down at the arcade?"

"Not really. Not my scene."

"Well, now's a good time to try, 'aint it?"

"Sorry, I'm not feeling 'Full-gore-and-zombie-action' today."

Ellis huffed again, looking back to the screen for a few seconds, before nodding slowly.

"Awrigh', I understand if yer scared."

"Scared?" Nick scoffed. "Of what?"

"The game, or losin', take yer pick."

"Neither, you brat, and I'm not falling for your stupid tricks. They're the oldest ones in the book." Despite his words of denial, Nick could feel a curious blend of competitive nature and the simple desire to humor the boy in his chest. It was when the boy shrugged and walked away from the game that Nick surrendered, unable to accept that indifferent expression and aloof posture as reality.

"Alright, I'll kick your butt if you really want me to."

Ellis was back and wielding the red gun in the blink of an eye.

"Ya kin try, 'm real good at this."

Nick shrugged, fed the machine a dollar bill and picked up the little blue gun in his hand. It was only a little larger and a little lighter than his pistol. He felt himself grin.

The game started with dialogue concerning the 'undead' breaking into the stronghold and having to fight their way out. Then instructions flashed across the screen, telling the boys they had limited health, how to reload and to shoot the zombies before they got too close. Simple instructions, reminding Nick that he'd probably played this at least once before.

The game started with a door breaking down and zombies wandering in. Ellis picked a few off with two hands, while Nick tried to absently do the same with only one. He was a little annoyed to see the boy's score rising faster than his own.

"Woo-hoo, keep up man!" Ellis hopped up and down, steadied his aim and took another shot, somehow managing to convince the game he'd hit a zombie in the head.

"The game's rigged," the man grumbled, unable to understand why he couldn't seem to get such accurate shots in.

"Naw, 'm just a badass zombie killin' machine!"

Nick grimaced, casting a sideways glance to the boy and consequently getting virtually punched in the face by a nearby zombie.

"Where did you get such a colourful vocabulary? I don't think it's your mother teaching you these words."

"I'm twelve, Nick. I go ta school. I hear stuff on the yard, an' sides, yer one to complain about language, you swear every five minutes."

"I do not."

"Uh-huh," Ellis mumbled a few gunshot noises under his breath, adding to the effect of shooting the virtual zombies, as if the blaring surround sound and crude graphics weren't enough.

"Y'know what I bin thinkin'?"

"You think?"

"Haha. 'Aintcha just hilarious." A couple zombies fell under the red crosshairs. "But y'know how all these vampire, zombie an' werewolf movies always have such crazy details in them?"

"Yeah," Nick was only half listening, the rest of his attention devoted to getting that little blue number higher than the red number opposite it.

"I was thinkin', what if all that stuff is real, an' the horror movies 'n such are all warnin's 'bout what's out there?"

"That's ridiculous, Ellis."

"No, it 'ain't." The screen shook as a much larger, far more mutated zombie crashed through a wall, and suddenly they had to aim for weak points in it's body in order to bring it down before it crushed them to bits and ate them alive.

"If that were true, why wouldn't the directors of these movies just come out and tell us all this themselves?" Nick was starting to catch up. He'd remembered the fact that physics didn't actually apply in video games and had started aiming right for the zombies, instead of where they were going to be by the time his 'bullet' would reach them.

"Well 'cause they got two big things ta worry 'bout!"

"Two?"

"Yeah, one, people're automatically gonna think they're crazy."

"Naturally."

"And two, they can't go tellin' everyone 'cause then they'd make themselves a target."

The big zombie exploded into bloody bits and the screen progressed onto the next level.

"A target to who?" Nick's mind was thinking hitmen and revenge, until he reminded himself that this was Ellis talking.

"Duh. The zombies 'n werewolves 'n vampires 'n shit. They gotta protect their secrets, y'know?"

"You're insane"

"Ya won't think that when vampires are runnin' 'round in broad daylight 'n bitin' people."

"They're vampires, Ellis, they won't be 'runnin' 'round in broad daylight,' even if they were real. Which they are not."

Ellis shrugged.

"Furthermore, I don't think any amount of paranormal outbreak will make me think that you are any less insane."

It was here that Ellis's score finally took the backseat. After killing an impossible amount of zombies and then getting swarmed with so many there wasn't any background left in the screen, the boys finished their game with Nick in the lead. However, their scores couldn't compare to the many bored road trippers who played this until their fingers fell off. Neither of them had enough of a score to make the record board.

"Alright, I've kicked your midget ass, can we get on with our lives now?"

"I 'aint no midget!"

Nick shrugged, turning to exit the arcade without another word. After huffing, re-reading the high scores and lingering around the game for a moment longer, Ellis moved to follow. He pulled his hat firmly down on his head, adjusting the brim between his thumb and forefinger as he walked beside his older friend.

"By the way. Ya swore just there.

"Dumb shit."

"An' again."

Ellis smiled cheerfully, not at all phased by the severe insults. However, an older woman who'd overheard the remark let out an appalled gasp, a little offended to see that neither of the two paid her any attention.

* * *

After grabbing a bite to eat from one of the available restaurants and eating it on the outside patio, (Nick refused to let Ellis get anywhere near his car with food, let alone inside the thing,) Nick took Ellis into one of the shops to get him some changes of clothes. Nick let the kid pick out his own stuff, but insisted he get at least one nice-looking outfit to wear, due to the fact that he was paying for it and he had a reputation to uphold: he couldn't be seen with a kid that consistently looked as if he'd washed his clothes in motor oil. Before long, the pair were back on the road. They'd put four hours of road in between them and L.A, and had not yet made their destination.

But Ellis knew that if Savannah was their end goal, they certainly weren't getting there in a day. There was no way they could cross the country in a car in 24 hours. Not with traffic and mother nature frequenting their route.

"Where're we goin'?" Ellis had leant his chair back and managed to cross his legs, hands behind his head to serve as a pillow.

"New Mexico."

"Wait, we're goin' to _Mexico?"_

"No Ellis, we're going to _New_ Mexico."

"Oh, the state?"

"Yes. The state."

"Tha' makes a bit more sense, whereabouts in New Mexico?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't know."

Ellis shrugged, wanting to hear regardless.

"I'm hoping to make it to Albuquerque before nightfall."

"Albuwhatsit?"

"I rest my case."

Again, Ellis shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

"Tell me a story, Nick."

"Tired?"

"No. Bored."

"I told you I'm no good with stories."

"You're pretty decent at 'em. If ya'd prefer, I could tell you a story. Got plenty o' those."

"I'm sure."

Ellis shifted in his seat, unable to move much in the little car. He arched his back and yawned widely, feeling a little odd with nothing to do and nothing to divert his attention to.

"Don' pull over or anythin', but why're you so...sarcastic?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, yer like twenty-summin', righ'?"

"Twenty-three, Ellis."

"Yeah, so why 'aintchu lovin' life or summin'?"

"I do, I just don't do it in the way you seem to," leaning back in his seat, Nick allowed his jaws to part in a large yawn. Ellis stared out the windshield and kept talking. The man thought his rambling would be bothersome, but he found that he was eager for some sort of distraction.

"Righ', you play poker 'n pool 'n do weird stuff like gamblin'."

"Gambling isn't weird."

"Well, maybe, but it sure is real risky."

Nick grunted in agreement. Ellis had been right the other day. The man had to deal with unpleasant situations quite often because of his life choices, so soon a method of self-defense became a must. This lead to the purchase of his pistol, which presently was tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket, which lay folded between the two seats.

As if reading his mind, Ellis brought it up.

"Why d'ya carry tha' thing anyways, was I righ'?"

"More or less. Some people don't take losing easily, like the last fellow I cleaned out. Also, there are times where in order to prevent myself from losing, I have to lie or cheat a little. There are people who don't take well to that, either."

"Well duh."

"The bottom line is: I live a successful, wealthy life, but it has its fair share of dangers too."

"Like people tryin' to drown ya in the ocean?"

"Like that, yes."

"Have ya ever had anythin' worse than that happen?"

"Hmm. Perhaps. But I've been shot at, beaten, tied up and gagged before."

"How d'ya survive?"

"Good luck and quick thinking."

"Whoa," Ellis took of his hat and fiddled with it in his hands. Once again, he found himself wishing his mother or father had such luck. Maybe things would've gone better between them, and maybe he wouldn't be freeloading off a good person if they did.

He wouldn't be lost, that's for sure.

"So that last guy, ya beat him in a poker game, righ'?"

"I cleaned him out, yes. Made him look like a poor poker player in front of a lot of important people. He got a little flustered, made himself look like a fool and obviously blamed me for it."

"Well, it sorta was yer fault an' all, considerin' you were playin' in a game you weren't supposed to be in."

"How did you know?"

Ellis shrugged.

"I hear things. D'you think that guy is upset yer still alive?"

Nick chuckled, gave the statement little thought and shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. I highly doubt he'd follow me all the way across the country to get revenge. If he was playing at that game, he could afford to lose."

"Ya never know."

"Well, if that's the case, I won't be caught off guard a second time. Moreso, something would have to be seriously wrong with him mentally to hold that much of a grudge."

"Or he jus' has nothin' better to do in his free time."

Nick laughed, pretending not to notice how the boy beamed at the sound, puffing his chest out in pride.

"You never know," he repeated with a smile.

* * *

They weren't too far out from Albuquerque when they stopped, but Nick was so sick of driving and no matter how much Ellis begged, he refused to break the law and let that boy behind the wheel of _his_ Corvette. So, their official stop was just outside a little town called Bluewater, a little over an hour's distance away from their planned stop.

It was as they were checking into a little motel that Ellis made a bit of an observation.

"I think I have a positive effect on ya."

Nick snorted.

"You're insane," he said dismissively, taking their keys and heading back outside to find their room. Ellis followed behind, jumping up on the curb once they were on the sidewalk and keeping his balance as he walked along it.

"I know, I know, but I do, really!"

"And why do you think that?"

"Well, I was thinkin'..."

"Ah, I thought I smelt something burning."

His insult was smoothly ignored.

"But when we firs' met, ya dinn't smile much. Even when ya won all that money, ya didn't so much as grin."

"I was pretty down on luck. I can't say I was in the mood to smile."

"Why?"

Nick found their room, pausing in order to fit the key into the lock and push his way inside. It was a small, low-tech motel with two beds, a T.V and a bathroom.

"Well, it was shortly after my wife walked out on me."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be. She was a demon in disguise."

"Like a vampire?"

"Never mind," Nick threw his suitcase onto the bed closest to the door, claiming it as his own before flopping down onto the mattress with a grateful sigh. Ellis, however, was not done talking.

"But still, ya don' have many reasons to smile righ' now, yet ya smile all the time!"

"I have everything I want in life and more, how is that not a reason to smile?"

"Well, to put it simple-like," Ellis held up a hand, counting on his fingers as he spoke, "Ya gotta ferry around 'a southern brat' 'till we get to Savannah."

"I suppose."

"Ya almost died the other day, 'n then were almost the reason I died."

Nick stiffened at this insensitive reminder, but managed to grind out a patient:

"Alright."

"Yer payin' fer me everywhere we go, ya call me super-annoyin' an' bothersome, ya gotta watch me all the time 'cause 'parently I can' handle myself."

"You can't."

"Butcha still smile a lot when 'm around."

"How do you know it's just you?"

Ellis shrugged.

"Gut feeling," he said simply, plopping down on his bed with a happy smile. Nick sat up, fixed the boy with an even stare and held that bright blue gaze for a few long seconds. Ellis returned it, refusing to look away or let that smile die.

"Well you're wrong," Nick said with a childish huff that surprised even himself. He quickly brushed it off, continuing before the boy could bring any more attention to it. "It's a bit selfish to think you're the reason I experience happiness."

"Well...tha's not how I put it..."

"But it's basically what you said."

It was Ellis's turn to huff indignantly. Only, he was a twelve-year-old and this sort of behaviour was far less unusual. Nick decided to leave it at that, rolling onto his stomach to bury his face into the blanket below.

"Can I watch TV?"

"Go ahead," the man said simply, waving a hand absently over his head. He heard the machine click on and buzz to life. The boy flipped through a multitude of channels before settling on something vibrant and colourful. Nick never got to see what it was, as he was out like a light in a matter of minutes.

He was woken up a few hours later by a gentle shake.

"Nick."

"Go away, Ellis."

"Naw, Nick, get up 'n change."

Nick waved a hand in the direction of where the boy's voice was coming from, hoping he'd somehow manage to hit the kid and send him away. He missed, and was forced to listen as the boy whispered to him again.

"S'freezin' in here, 'n yer gonna catch a cold if ya sleep like that."

Nick scrunched up his face in distaste before realizing that the kid was right about one thing. It was cold in the room.

"Alright, alright." Nick opened his eyes and turned his head to give the boy a blank look. He was already ready for bed, and had brought the man's suitcase closer to him so his things would be easier to find in the dim lighting.

Ellis had shut off the lights in the main room, but an orange glow filtered through the barely-open door to the bathroom.

"'M sorry, I would'a gotten yer things out, but I figured you were the kinda person who liked their privacy 'n whatnot."

"Thank you," Nick said. He meant it.

He found his nightwear packed towards the top of his suitcase, as he'd intended. He rolled over, sitting on the end of his bed as he pulled his shirt off over his head and replaced it with a looser one. Ellis climbed into his own bed as the man removed his belt and decided he was too tired to go change out of his slacks. He simply climbed under the covers of his bed and sunk into his pillow.

"G'night Nick."

"Night Ellis."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Good night, Ellis."

Of course, Nick was back out cold in the following minutes, ten hours of driving had certainly taken a toll on his energy. But now that he was comfortable and warm under the covers, he slept without a doubt in his mind that he would wake up feeling regenerated.

Had he managed to keep himself awake for even a little while longer, he might've heard the boy in the bed nearby slowly push himself to a sitting position. He would've heard the boy make a curious noise into the dark, mutter something under his breath, repeat it to himself, then slowly return to a prone position.

Then, moments later, he would shuffle again as he sat up, take in a shaky breath, then slowly rise. His footsteps would've been heard all the way to the door, where they hesitated for a moment.

Then, the door opened with a quiet creak.

And shut with a soft click.

Silence.

* * *

**Kaaacaaaaw!**

**Hello friends. I missed you.**

**I can't make any excuses for how long you waited for this, I can only offer my sincerest apologies and promises that I _will_ finish this. This is one of two chapters I have ready to update. However, the way I update my chapters is weird. Before I update one, I feel the need to have the next chapter completed. So this chapter is old. Just as old as chapter 5. Chapter seven is half old, half new. Everything after that will be pure, hammered out awesomeness from the modern day and age. However, I know I kept you guys waiting for very, very long. I don't even know if any of you still hang around to read this.**

**If you do, here you go. I promise to upload a seventh chapter before Monday, whether or not I have the eighth finished.**

**To be honest with you. It's all your reviews and encouragement that has kicked me back into writing again, so I have you all to thank. Keep it up. We'll see this through to the end, I promise!**

**Thanks for reading this far,**

**Lots of love, **

**Shmee**

**Toodles~**


	7. Chapter 7

Nick found it odd when he awoke on his own accord.

Over the past few days, he usually woke up when he heard his younger comrade stir restlessly in the morning, or heard him get up and walk around. Sometimes he'd be doing something crazy or questionable - like playing a piano at some odd hour of the morning - but today there was nothing but silence.

Even the child's breathing was silent.

Nick sat upright in his bed, in panic that the child had gone into cardiac arrest in his sleep and his corpse now lay in the neighbouring bed. However, when he cast a frantic gaze over the mattress, he found it empty.

No dead body.

No body at all, actually.

Nick took a moment to steady his breathing, having overcome one panic only to be shown another. If Ellis wasn't in bed, and wasn't anywhere in sight, where was he?

"Ellis?" He called out, expecting to hear an answering drawl from the bathroom. No accented voice sounded through the wooden door. Again, he was met with silence.

The man threw his legs over the side of his bed, heart alive and all signs of sleep gone from his posture. His mind raced for possibilities as to the child's absence. His first conclusion was that the boy had run away again, plagued by guilt and somehow under the impression that leaving Nick would make his life easier. On the contrary, waking to find the child gone the first time had thrown him into a panic.

The first time, he'd woken quite easily from his cramped position on the table, moving his arms and sending the hat perched beside him to the floor. Upon realizing what it was and retrieving it, he noticed the owner of that hat had vanished. Instantly, his mind had jumped to the thugs from the previous night. He raced out of the hotel and into the rain, heading to the lot where he'd met the thugs the previous night. Nothing had been there, no signs of struggle, no note, no nothing.

He tried to think things over, to make sense of what was happening and recall any clues that he could have taken from the event itself. There were the two men, the car, the cash he'd falsely promised...

Though in hindsight, even if he had paid the men with the money he'd offered, they probably would've been just as eager to get even with the scheming young man. The supposed 'ten thousand' he'd laid down on the boy's life was only about two or three hundreds, and then countless dollar bills to make the wad look like a hefty amount, with the hundreds on the outside of the clip. It was a trick he often used in high-stake bets.

It had worked well enough, and if worse came to worst, he would only be loosing a few hundred dollars. Not a major blow.

He remembered having to force himself to calm down. He knew there was a very real possibility that the duo from the previous night would want revenge on the conman, but he'd been careful about being followed. Besides, it wasn't often people kidnapped a child without leaving some form of ransom note. He then began to think he may have been panicking for the wrong reasons.

It was a likely possibility that the boy had taken off on his own accord, instead of against his will. Not everything wrong was the act of hooligans and thugs.

For a moment, Nick was completely content to let the kid go and handle himself. But then, remembering how 'handling himself' had backfired on the boy the previous night, the conman began to feel a little guilty.

That kid really was too innocent and trusting to be let alone for too long.

Grudgingly, he went out to find the southerner, thinking of the places he could possibly be and only able to conclude the bus stops. He checked every one in the surrounding area until he found the boy huddled under a soaking sweater in the pounding rain.

He would never admit it to a soul, but that very moment _still _burned in his brain: those blue eyes bright, staring up at him in a terrible combination of sorrow, fear, guilt and hopelessness. Nick had been unable to understand how the boy's eyes could so accurately display so many emotions in one colour. They had brimmed with tears that were so stubbornly fought off for a few, fragile seconds. It looked as if the boy's boundless spirit had been brutally pounded into place by the rain.

His heart went out to the kid.

At the time, he still didn't quite know what kind troubles the boy was dealing with, but he knew with all certainty that he would try anything he could to help him overcome them, especially if it meant never seeing that heart wrenching look on the boy's face again.

It was unnatural on him, he was too upbeat for such a look.

Which is why once he'd learned about Ellis's predicament, Nick was quick to make the decision to help. He had troubles imagining such a naive, trusting boy on his own in the unforgiving country of America and could almost see the hurt look back on the boy's face upon realizing not the entire world was butterflies and rainbows.

But now, Nick was beginning to fear that his efforts had been for nothing and that the ungrateful little brat had taken off to try and fly solo again – after everything he'd done for him.

He needed to calm down.

Breathing in through his nose, Nick cast a gaze around the room once more, unsure how to react upon seeing both the boy's sweater and pyjamas folded sloppily on the end of his bed. He had issues believing Ellis would leave behind his sweater - although he did have his coveralls, so maybe he thought he wouldn't need it?

Ugh. The boy was more trouble then he was worth.

Nick fished for his keys on the side table, ready to go out and look for the kid. Part of him feared that someone had taken him, to get even with the conman somehow - he knew it was a likely possibility as he tucked his gun away into his jacket, now properly clothed. Already he was trying to think of who would take him or why, and how he could get him back. The boy's would-be captors clearly hadn't left any message.

He turned towards the door, only to see it open under his gaze.

Instantly, fearing the worst, Nick's pistol was gripped firmly in his hand and the muzzle trained on the small figure who stepped through the doorway.

"Uhh...g'mornin'?" Ellis was quiet, not sure how to feel while staring down the barrel of a gun.

Nick breathed out a long sigh, then tucked his pistol into the back of his pants.

"What the hell, kid?"

Ellis stared more, obviously at a loss for how to reply.

"What were you doing out there?"

"Uhh...walkin'? Ellis looked back outside, then to the hostile individual standing a few paces away.

"'Walkin'?" Nick's voice was a terribly accurate mockery of the boy's as his patience wore thin. "Out there, on your own?"

"Yeah?"

"Right," forcing himself to breath evenly, Nick ran a hand through his dark hair, "why?"

"I woke up 'n you were still sleepin', so I decided to go walkin' for a while. I get bored easily."

Nick frowned, instantly detecting a lie. The boy's tone was quiet, his gaze off to the side and his hands wrung together in front of him.

"Ellis," Nick narrowed his eyes, very ready to pressure the boy for the truth.

"Hey, Nick, guess what!"

Taken back by the boy's sudden, bright tone, Nick could only respond with a mildly annoyed;

"What?"

"I'm twelve today!" Ellis's smile was bright.

Honest, this time.

Nick's expression soured further, unable to understand why the kid felt the need to waste his time with pointless facts.

"Right, just like you were twelve yesterday. What the hell, Ellis?"

"Naw, naw, I wasn't twelve yesterday."

"...Sorry?"

"When ya asked how old I was in San Francisco, I lied. I was really only eleven."

Nick stared, unsure what was more baffling: the fact that the boy had lied to him and managed to get away with it, or the fact that he believed the whole thing was a big deal at all.

"...Oh...okay?"

"But y'know, I figured 'cause my birthday wuz so close it wouldn' matter, an' I though' it would make ya think of me like a bit less of a kid..."

"Because that one year makes all the difference."

Nick wasn't sure if he was supposed to be taking this whole thing seriously.

"Well I...I though' so..."

Ellis looked dejectedly to the floor, feeling sheepish. Seeing this unhappy expression on the boy's face, Nick breathed another long, tired sigh. He let himself smile, just a little.

"Happy birthday then, Ellis."

"Thanks, Nick."

"My present to you, so you don't expect one, is that I'm choosing to ignore the fact that you're _lying_ to me about something _again._"

"I told ya, I dinn't think it'd matter 'cause my birthday was so close anyways!"

"I'm not talking about your birthday, Ellis."

Nick left it at that.

* * *

Despite the significant day for the boy, Ellis was quiet.

Again.

God damnit.

It was really beginning to bother Nick as he drove: the boy's uncharacteristic silence and obvious brooding was something the conman would rather not endure, especially from the usually upbeat southerner.

As much as he verbally denied it, he was beginning to enjoy the boy's senseless babble. It meant that he was okay and that he was happy. It meant he didn't have a care in the world beyond the words tumbling freely from his mouth.

Now that it had stopped, it was clear that the boy wasn't okay; he wasn't happy. He could try and insist he was fine, but his body language and atmosphere simply said otherwise.

What bothered Nick the most, however, is that Ellis wouldn't just _tell_ him what was wrong. It was annoying to know something was amiss, yet not know what to do about it, or even how to start fixing it. He could try piecing together the facts in his head, but he didn't think like a kid and certainly not like Ellis would. The only conclusions he could draw was homesickness, that the boy wanted to spend his birthday with his mother, like any eleven-or-twelve-or-however-old-he-was-today kid.

He knew he was probably incorrect and had to admit the fact that while the boy was easy to read in the sense that one could easily tell when something was wrong, it was harder to tell exactly what was bothering him. Even if Nick were to ask, Ellis would only change the subject or outright lie.

This was probably because the boy was foolishly convinced that in telling someone else what was wrong, he was creating trouble for them. In actuality, Nick felt he was being troubled more by the fact that he _wasn't_ being confided in, and that he hadn't a clue what to do to even start to make whatever it was better.

So, he continued to drive in silence, mind racing and watching the boy out of the corner of his eye.

Numerous possibilities for his sudden lack of enthusiasm began to pop up in his head, based on previous things the boy had said. But...he was unsure how to bring them up.

"No stories?" He said simply, flicking his stare to find the boy in his seat. Ellis was slow to respond, but he responded none the less. He turned his head and smiled.

"Naw, can't really think o' any righ' now."

"Why?"

The boy shrugged.

Nick tightened his grip on the steering wheel as his mind dove into another bout of trying to think of what to do or say to get the boy to talk. There were things Nick himself hadn't told the boy, but that was only his opinions of the kid, he didn't think telling him those things would change anything.

Or...maybe...Perhaps it was worth a shot? After all, if he expected the kid to be honest and open with him, he should at least return the favour, or lead by the example.

"You're not a burden," he said quietly, easing up on the gas a little.

"Sorry?"

"I said, you're not a burden to me."

Ellis stared once more at the man, eyes wide with curiosity.

"I 'aint?"

"All those times I've told you that you were a bother, or really annoying, I wasn't being serious. All those things I said? I was kidding."

"Well, I uh..."

The boy trailed off, failing to pick up where he left off after some time.

"Alright, I lied a bit, you are _really_ annoying. But you're a good kid." A pause. "No,wait, you're a good _person_ and I respect that in you."

These words brought such a smile to the boy's face.

"Aw, shucks, Nick, yer jus' sayin' that."

"I'd like to say I was, but no, I mean it Ellis. In some ways, I look up to you."

"Really?" The smile was dying a little.

"Really."

"But you got all this fancy stuff an' get to travel the country an'-"

"I'm not talking material possessions, Ellis, I'm talking about your attitude." Nick let his gaze wander a little further out the windshield, trying to see as far down the road as he could. The sky was overcast, the sun trying in vain to peek through the clouds. "I envy how open you are with people...how honest. I couldn't be that way if I tried, it's just not who I am, but I admire it in you. You're an optimist, Ellis, something I never expected to find in some southern brat out of Georgia. Though, I have to be honest at least here, before I met you my opinion of southerners was not much different than the woman in the hotel."

"...Really? So when you met me...ya thought I was..."

"No, no. That's not what I said. _Before_ I met you. I'm talking the moment you opened your mouth my opinion was skewed, just a little. No selfish, near-sighted redneck would sit at my table just to talk to me about a game I won because he thought it was cool. From there I let myself be a little less prejudice."

There was a long pause before Ellis spoke again.

"Ya mean that?"

"I do."

Ellis nodded slowly, then cast his bright blue stare out to the gray sky, staring out in thought. Nick feared the worst, that instead of inspiring honesty, his little confession had forced the boy to retreat further into his vigil of silence.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yes, Ellis?"

"I'm really sorry fer annoyin' you 'n stuff. I don' mean to, honest."

"I know Ellis. You and I...our personalities are just different. We don't get along that well."

"I think we do," the boy drummed his hands on his knees, "we get along fine."

"How so? I insult you, you complain and whine, I make fun of your accent, you think I'm-"

"Naw, naw. I don't mean...well, I guess I kinda do. I think thass just how we get along. Even when yer insultin' me or makin' fun of me, I don' take it personally, it's just what I've come to expect from ya. If we acted anythin' different, I'd think summin' was wrong with one of us."

"Like now?" Nick allowed his gaze to drift off the road and to the boy in the passenger seat. He lowered his head slowly, bright blue gaze hitting his lap in a matter of seconds. His shoulders sagged, his half-lidded eyes carried a light of unhappiness. He sighed.

"Yeah," Ellis said at last, "like now." His small hands reached up to pull his hat from his head and cradle it gently between his fingers. He was silent again for quite some time.

"Are you going to tell me why?"

Ellis looked up, casting him a sideways glance and shrugging. He failed to properly answer Nick's question.

With a sigh of his own, Nick went to change lanes, heading towards the first exit ramp he could find. The boy was no more conscious than usual of where they were going as they pulled away from the freeway. His gaze was on the floor of the car, not where they were, so there was no way he would've noticed anything unusual even if he knew the route they were taking.

The man wove through the streets, mentally imprinting their names as he went, already beginning to chart his way back as he took the pair further and further away from civilization and out into the country roads.

When he felt they were far enough out and surrounded by long, privately owned fields of green and gold, Nick pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car.

Ellis looked up, initially looking a bit intimidated. No doubt he was expecting a repeat of the last time Nick pulled over during a conversation.

Thankfully, his paranoia was unnecessary.

Nick undid his seat belt, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and a lighter and moved to exit the car. He shut the door behind him, leaving Ellis sitting confused inside the vehicle, unsure what to do. When Nick had lit his cigarette and let a long wisp of smoke escape from his lungs, he popped the doors open again and poked his head inside. The car interior would start heating up soon. Ellis would quickly overheat if he stayed inside.

"Come on then, kiddo."

Ellis blinked.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to take you out to the fields, knock you out and bury you alive."

The boy widened his eyes, sinking further back into his seat with an alarmed expression. Nick chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm kidding, we're going for a walk."

Ellis was hesitant and slow to put his hand on the door.

"Ya bein' honest?"

"Much more than usual. Come on. I need to stretch my legs. You need fresh air. Bottom line, I know what's best because I'm older than you now get out of the car before I punch you."

The boy paused again, though the hesitance was replaced with disbelief. Regardless, he finally pushed the door open and stepped outside, instantly glad he did so. The open country air was a welcome breath, the warm sun a much needed break from the artificial chill of the car. Despite being a jerk, Nick certainly knew what was best.

At least, for that moment.

The elder man began to lead the way out into the fields, climbing over the short wooden fence without needing to remove his hands from his pockets.

"Are ya sure this 'aint private property?"

"Not at all."

"Back home, there's people who'll shoot shady characters fer tresspassin'"

"Then let's hope this person's a lousy shot."

"And what if he 'aint?"

"Then stay here, locked in the car, on your own on this run-down, deserted country road. I'm going for a walk."

Ellis huffed, not quite sure if he liked the tone of the man's voice, but went to clamber over the fence so he could catch up, even though every bone in his body reminded him that trespassing was wrong and that he shouldn't be doing it.

However, Nick didn't at all seemed bothered and the boy chose to focus on that fact as he attempted to keep pace with the moving individual.

"So why're we out here?"

"I told you. I was sick of sitting and you brooding."

"Broodin'?"

"Yes, moping without explaining why."

"Oh...righ'"

Nick was hoping that would've prompted the boy to speak, but he was remaining stubbornly quiet. So instead of huffing and pestering him further, he shoved his hands in his jacket pocket and walked over the field. Eventually, they came to a well trodden gravel path. He studied his surroundings and scuffed the gravel with his shoe, content that the mark left there would let him know where to leave the path on the return trip. He paused a moment longer on the path, deciding which way to go, before heading up the hill, expecting Ellis to simply follow.

It was a little amazing how quiet Ellis could stay when he wanted to. Before the southern midget had realigned his opinions, Nick believed all kids were loudmouthed chatterboxes that didn't have an off button, that wouldn't 'shut up' no matter how you asked them. Now the situation had reversed, and the conman was actually making more of an effort than usual to get the boy to talk to him. He really just wanted the kid to be okay, he didn't like this quieter counterpart nearly as much as the scatterbrained goofball he usually was.

In the silence, however, Nick was given the chance to try and think through what could possibly be wrong. There were only so many conclusions he could draw, considering Ellis was so goddamned determined to not trouble his elder guardian by complaining about anything serious. Was he just tired of being around Nick and his consistent stream of insults? That didn't seem likely, as the boy had admitted that anything else would've just been weird. Homesickness had already occurred to him as well, the eagerness to be with his family on his birthday a depressing thing. But then again...it just didn't seem to fit.

"Ellis,"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me something, will you?"

It took the boy a while to muster up a confident answer.

"...Okay."

Nick paused in order to take a long drag off his cigarette, blowing smoke into the cool air with a thoughtful hum.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Sorry?"

"Do you want to go back home?"

Ellis was not quick to answer, which was actually something Nick was glad for. It meant he was on the right track, that he was getting closer to the source of the problem. At least out in the open, there wasn't the stress of being cramped in a small place, with nowhere to run or turn to in an awkward situation. Out in the country fields, even he was feeling more free and less pinned down by troublesome emotional weights.

"..Why d'ya ask such a silly thing like that, Nick?"

"Because I think I can understand why you wouldn't."

"Can ya?"

Nice grunted in immediate response, but refused to expand on his comments. This, needless to say, drove the young boy crazy. It was insanely annoying when someone started to say something and then decided it wasn't worth it to finish. What was it they were going to say? Did it pertain to them? Why couldn't they just say it? Why say anything at all if you weren't going to try to finish it?

The boy huffed indignantly as Nick trekked further up the hill, smirking to himself at Ellis's obvious displeasure.

The pair reached the top of the hill in silence and found themselves overlooking endless fields, illuminated by the afternoon sun. In the distance, wooden fences marked the start of a new property, a harsh border of brown against pleasant greens and yellows. It was a scene worth painting a picture of, if either of the two were artists, and not currently weighted down by petty curiosities.

Nick continued into the fields.

"Where're we goin', anyways?"

"I told you. For a walk."

"D'you know where we are?"

"Not really."

Ellis paused, staring down a little daisy that was growing on the side of the road. After admiring it for a little while, he stooped down to pick it before hastily scrambling to catch up to his older comrade.

"D'ya usually take walks like this?" Ellis asked, absently rubbing one of the petals between his thumb and forefinger.

"No, not usually."

A pause.

"Then again, I don't usually ferry around annoying twelve-year-old southerners."

Ellis fell silent again, trying to find things of interest in his flower as they continued along the path. Hadn't they been over this? He was _sorry._ It wasn't as if he'd meant to get lost, or as if he'd meant to find the gambler clear across the country. It was all just really good luck.

Or bad luck, if you asked Nick.

"I haven't told you much about my father, have I?"

The southern boy looked up to the young man who'd spoken at last and broken the silence. Ellis shook his head, watching with wide-eyed curiosity as the man took another long breath of his cigarette. He scrunched up his nose at the thought of inhaling toxic fumes, but said nothing in protest. Instead, he silently willed that man to continue – to not let the conversation drop promptly off a metaphorical cliff. Again.

"What was he like?" urged the boy.

"He was...interesting. A lawyer with a gambling habit. He'd spend nights upon nights out at the bars or the casinos, and then come home drunk and smelling of perfume," Ellis was surprised to see the man actually _smile_ at this recollection. "He and my mom used to fight all the time. Just about every night I'd hear them arguing downstairs."

The boy gave a thoughtful grunt, returning his attention to his flower as they walked, aware of how similar this was beginning to sound. Was he setting this up?

"And then there were the nights where he'd come home from work like a normal husband, sit with his family for dinner and then help his son through his piano lessons," Nick frowned, "but those nights were rare. By the time I was a teenager they almost never happened and my parents were fighting every night."

Ellis wanted to say something. To apologize for what he was hearing, to say something decidedly wise in encouragement. But despite his efforts, he couldn't think of a single thing that wouldn't sound childish or dumb to his elder, so he bit his tongue and just listened.

"Sometimes I wondered why they didn't just end it, get a divorce or something. They obviously hated each other, they bickered every time they were together, my father had started sleeping on the couch," he paused again, "that is, assuming he even came home for the night."

"Eventually, I figured out that they were staying together for my sake. Guess they didn't want the family any _more_ messed up than it already was. But 'my sake' only lasted so long and dad took off without a word to either of us."

Yes. This was definitely sounding familiar.

"There were nights when I considered running away, before and after my father had left. I didn't want to be in a house with a broken family. Believe it or not, I wanted a normal life. Once my father had gone...I didn't want to hang around to admit it was never going to be a 'normal life' for me, that every day spent in that unusually empty house was a reminder that my rights at a 'normal' family life had been taken from me. It wasn't my fault, but that didn't stop me from blaming myself anyways."

Here, Ellis took the time to cast a gaze over his shoulder. The hill they'd first overcome was quite a distance back. They were approaching the fence that originally seemed so very far away.

"So I got to thinking, 'The brat is in a similar position I was, so what's he thinking?' Considering you wouldn't just tell me so I could get on with my life, I started making guesses."

"Ellis, you don't want to go home, do you?"

Ellis was quiet for a moment, considering denying what the man was saying with a smile and an awkward laugh. Why wouldn't a homesick kid want to go home? That was just silly...

"Naw...Naw, I really don'..."

"Didn't think so," Nick sounded unimpressed, and Ellis suddenly felt compelled to somehow rectify what he had said.

"But tha' don't mean I want ya to keep drivin' me around 'n stuff! I don't really want to go home, but I got my Ma back there an' I kinda gotta anyways!"

"And why is that?"

Ellis was caught off guard by the change in the man's tone. What had first been unimpressed and flat was now lighter, almost sad sounding. Like Nick _had_ wanted to keep driving him around. But no. That wasn't the case, Ellis was sure. He was just looking to hear the truth from the boy, no matter what it took.

It was only fair, after all. Nick had just explained a whole lot about him without being asked, the least he could do was the same in response.

"It's juss like ya said...I dun' wanna be in a house with a broken family...I want things ta go back to the way they were...Me, _both_ my folks, the little house 'n those junker cars Pa wanted to fix..."

The boy gave the flower in his hands a sad stare. Up until then, it had been something to keep his hands busy, now it was just there to keep himself focused.

"I know I 'aint gonna find Pa...and I miss my Ma summin' terrible. But...out here, that's kinda taken a backseat, y'know? There's so much stuff ta see! 'N I really don't gotta worry about the destination, just the journey, righ'? It's like there's no stress out here, juss a whole lotta neat things to do 'n see, I feel a lot like myself, but the closer we get to Savannah..."

In the clumsy fumbling of his fingers, the flower slipped through his grasp and hit the gravel, but Ellis paid it little attention and continued to walk as if it had never existed to him.

"That feelin' goes away...'cause I gotta grow up 'n be there for Ma...I love my ma...but I 'aint done bein' a kid yet..."

At this, Nick smiled, though it went completely unnoticed by the downcast boy.

"Ellis, believe me when I say you probably won't stop being a kid for a long, long time."

The boy looked up.

"I'm not going to lie to you, you're probably going to have to go back to your mother with a little more worldly weight on your shoulders. You're all she's got now, you can't keep running away from that. But just because you've got to learn to grow up, doesn't meant you have to stop being a kid. It's just a matter of...knowing when the best time to be a kid is."

"Like at the racetracks?"

"Like when you do anything you like, really. You don't need to change your personality to go home, just your expectations out of life. But you're the kind of person who'll get over it a lot easier than I did."

"Really?"

"I believe so."

This made the boy beam from ear to ear. Never mind the solemn subject, it was just wonderful to hear that Nick _believed_ in him. The twelve-year-old brat he was ferrying around actually meant something to him, actually held some worth. That feeling was certainly the best he'd experienced in a while.

"Aw, shoot, Nick, I didn't think ya cared."

"I don't," he said evenly, though they were both aware of the lie, "so don't get too excited. I'm just sick and tired of you dragging your sorry ass all over the place. You mope like a pansy."

"I 'ain't a pansy!"

"You keep saying that, but I find it really hard to believe yo-"

"Hey, look!"

Ellis was gone, running up the path with a sudden, boundless excitement, heading for the fence that marked the border of the property. Nick followed the boy's pace with his eyes, curious as to what it was that so suddenly distracted his short friend.

He really wasn't all that surprised to see horses on the other side of the fence. Three of them, all grazing peacefully in the fields maybe a hundred or so yards away from the rickety wooden fence.

"Horses!"

"I can see that."

"Aw, don't they look just gorgeous? I love horses." Ellis stood on the lowermost horizontal of the fence, leaning over as if that would bring him significantly closer to the large creatures on the other side. Nick approached at a much more relaxed pace, more concerned with his diminishing cigarette than the presence of a horse or two.

"Sure."

"D'you think their owner is around somewhere?" Ellis bounced eagerly on the fence, pausing only to stretch up to see if he could spot anything over the grassy hill – like a stable or a house or a commercial riding sign.

"Why does it matter?"

The southerner paused, leaning back and hanging onto the fence with both hands, grinning childishly.

"Juss wonderin', is all."

"You're not taking one home with you."

Ellis looked appalled for a moment, but a cheeky smile soon washed away the facade.

"I would never!"

Nick patiently stood at the fence, staring at the large creatures and trying to figure out just what was so amazing about the things. They were large, weird looking and smelled bad. Certainly not three things that went together to form something 'gorgeous' in his professional opinion. But Ellis seemed content to horse-watch, and didn't seem to mind the smell that the wind gently blew towards them. He breathed deeply, not bothered at all.

"So much for that whole 'trespassing' concern of yours."

"Well naw, I still dun wanna get in trouble fer tresspassin', but c'mon, lookit those horses! I 'aint seen a horse in weeks."

"How terrible."

"'aint it?"

Again, Ellis missed the conman's sarcasm, but it wasn't too important a thing in the first place.

_Let the kid stalk his animals in peace._

It wasn't too long before a fourth horse came galloping over the hilltop, this time carrying a rider with it.

"Hey, you!"

Instinctively, Nick grabbed the boy's arm, ready to pull him back out of the way and behind him should the stranger produce a gun. Ellis's claims of trespassers being shot rang in the back of his head.

"Hello there!" Ellis waved an arm above his head and beamed. Clearly, his previous concerns had been totally forgotten.

While Nick seemed prepared and braced for the very worst of people to come charging up to them, Ellis seemed to expect someone completely different. His smile was warm and friendly, his wave excited and big. His unhindered happiness was probably for the better, for when the stranger took one look at the boy who practically glowed with enthusiasm, he produced a smile of his own.

"Well howdy there, strangers!"

The man had a bit of bulk to him, but clearly only gained from his progression through life. The man was old, maybe in his sixties. Long white hair was pulled back into a ponytail under a black cowboy hat, staying true to the western theme with brown boots, jeans and a flannel shirt. He spoke with a bit of a southern accent, one not nearly as heavy as Ellis's, but still audible.

"Well hello!" said Ellis again, stepping off the fence and back onto the dirt.

"What're a couple o' young fellows like yourselves doin' out here?" the man's eyes lingered longer on Nick then they did Ellis, taking in his polished appearance and semi-formal attire. He certainly didn't look like he belonged in the country.

But Ellis did, and he spoke with the man like an old friend.

"We was juss admirin' yer horses. They're mighty purdy, you must take really good care of 'em!"

The man looked over his shoulder to the unsaddled horses in the fields, his black horse hoofing the ground as the weight on its back shifted slightly.

"Why thank you! M'names James, but call me Jim. Me 'n the missus own the land here. Includin' the land you two are standing on."

Nick scoffed impulsively, expecting the man to launch into some ramble about how trespassing is wrong and that they could be fined for such a crime, but he did not. Instead he carried on smiling, the same expression he'd contracted from Ellis, who stared at the ground below as if it had suddenly changed.

"Thass a lotta land ya got, d'ya got a farm 'n stuff, too?"

"You bet!"

"Cool! My name's Ellis, and this is my buddy Nick."

The aforementioned 'buddy' looked outwardly uncomfortable with the situation. It wasn't often he gave total strangers his name while he was at risk of being charged for a crime. He more often than not provided a fake one, but Ellis had no sense of this caution. He spoke freely.

"Pleasure to meet both of y'all. What're you doin' so far off the main roads?"

"We stopped for a walk," Nick said, not wanting a twelve-year-old to appear more people-skilled than he was. "We didn't know this was private property."

Ellis frowned in his direction, but Nick ignored it. He would lie as much as he saw fit, whether or not the munchkin agreed with it.

"Well that's alright, it's a lotta pretty land we don't mind sharin'. Never hurts to meet another horse lover, either. You ridden before, Ellis?"

"O'course! My buddy lives on a ranch, so we go ridin' together all the time!"

"Oh-ho! Well I don't s'pose you'd want to ride righ' now, would ya? Sara-Jean over there needs some exercise, and you look like just the fellow to help her out!"

Ellis's face lit up, before he could think to formulate a verbal answer, the boy had vaulted over the fence.

"Really? D'you mean it?"

"Well sure! It 'aint often we get visitors, so why not? I kin saddle up a horse for ya and have ya ridin' in ten minutes!"

"Awesome!"

"What about you, Nick, d'you wanna ride too?"

"No. No thank you. It's not my thing."

"I see. Well, suit yourself, kiddo."

Jim dismounted his horse and immediately began to undo the bindings for the saddle. While he worked, he gave a shrill whistle out of the corner of his mouth. A brown horse on the hilltop raised its head, then trotted over at a relaxed pace, turning herself sideways to allow the cowboy to saddle her. She stood still and patient while the old man worked, ignoring the boy's excited bounces at his side.

While they sorted out the whole horse-fiasco, Nick stepped up onto the fence, then over. He sat down on the uppermost portion of the wooden boundary, propping his elbows on his knees and leaning forward as he watched.

Soon, Ellis was up on Sara-jean the horse and trotting up and down the hill, laughing and whooping as they went. The more comfortable he got with the horse, the faster he would encourage her to go. Jim's original horse trotted lazily away, the cowboy leaning against the fence and watching with Nick.

"Well 'aint he just a bundle of energy," Jim said, tipping his hat.

"Tell me about it."

"You two brothers?"

Nick shook his head, biting his tongue. He was incredibly tempted to point out that they really didn't look alike at all, and that they didn't share one common trait physically. But he figured if the man was being nice enough to let the southerner prance around with his horses, free of charge, Nick ought to be a little nice to the man, for Ellis's sake.

"You can't possibly be his father."

This time, Nick let out an annoyed sigh. Jim didn't seem to mind, for he smiled a chuckled.

"Didn't think so. Sorry, it's just unusual to see a kid like him with a guy like you, y'know, the way you're all put together and he's all...not. I just assumed you guys were family or summin'."

"No. He's just a friend." Nick watched as Ellis now galloped from one end of the field to the other, then started to race along the fence, following it down the other side of the hill and out of sight.

"S'good that an older guy like you can call a kid like that a friend. Most kids your age are very high 'n mighty, think they're above kids and should be babyin' them, not bein' friends with 'em."

The conman grunted, once again forcing himself to remain quiet. He remembered when he thought that way, when he was annoyed with having to watch Ellis that first night in Tallahassee. Despite the boy's instance, he didn't want to be friends with the kid, he just wanted the brat out of his hair.

"So where're y'all from?" Jim asked as Ellis came over the hill, still following the frence.

"I'm from Illinois. Ellis is from Georgia."

"Really now? Whereabouts?"

"Chicago, and Savannah."

There was a pause as Jim stroked the white hairs on his chin in thought.

"What're the two of you doin' out here then, road trip?"

"Sort of..."

"Hey, Jim!" Ellis and Sara-Jean bounded up, stopping near the pair of men. The mare hovered restlessly. "Can she jump?"

Jim laughed.

"Can you?"

Ellis gave a whoop and took off again, thundering away at an admirable speed. Nick watched him go, staring specifically at the dirt the mare kicked up behind her, then at the boy's back, sloped forward to better flow with the muscle movement of the creature he was riding.

Both men watched the young boy take the mare up the hill at a solid speed, leap the fence one way, turn around and leap it again. The pair moved well together: when she jumped, Ellis would bring his body close and lift himself off the saddle naturally. When she began to speed up, he would lean forward and when she would turn, he would lean with her. These movements were so in sync and natural-looking, had he not known otherwise, Nick would've thought they'd been riding together for years.

"Boy's a fine rider." Jim said, thinking the exact same thing. He tipped his hat back, eyebrows raised to accent the impressed look on his face. "Say, I could use a rider like that."

Nick gave the man a curious look, unsure what to say in response so he simply chose to say nothing.

"There's a show comin' up soon, and I'm gettin' on in my years, I dunno if I'm going to be able to ride that hard for that long. D'you think Ellis would mind representin me? It's this weekend, so if you guys are still in town..."

"Sorry, but we won't be."

Jim's face fell for a moment. He smiled sadly, gave a little sigh and then promptly worked himself back into a better mood. He lifted his head and shrugged.

"Well that's a darned shame, he would do great."

Nick bobbed his head in agreement, mentally slapping himself for being so terrible at having light conversation with total strangers. He didn't know what to say to this man, nor how to go about talking to him. He didn't know the first thing about horses, so he didn't think they had much common ground in that department.

"Right, what did you say the two of you were doin' out here?" Jim turned to the man with a warm, welcoming smile that reminded the young gambler of the child galloping about in the field. Nick wasn't quite sure what compelled him to do so, but suddenly the story came tumbling out – as briefly as he could make it.

"I'm taking him back to Georgia. He got a bit turned around on his own and ended up in San Francisco, where I found him."

"Whoa, an' you're takin' him all the way back? Did you know him before?"

"Sort of. We met once at a motel in Tallahassee, but that's it."

"That's mighty kind of you, boy."

Nick shrugged, averting his stare.

"It's nothing."

"No, it 'aint nothing. That explains why you won't be in town this weekend. That's one helluva good deed you're doin' for that kid. He's lucky."

Feeling sheepish at the compliment and unsure how to handle it, Nick shrugged for the umpteenth time and simply stared up the hill, following Ellis with his eyes as the boy and horse travelled back and fourth, leaping fences and taking sudden, sharp turned. When he got closer, Nick could see the boy was grinning ear-to-ear, looking truly happy for the first time in a while. Whatever thoughts the man had of telling Ellis to wrap things up so they could go vanished. It was the boy's birthday, it was going pretty shitty and he had no family to spend it with. He might as well let the kid have this small pleasure for as long as he could.

"Say, would the two of you like to join my wife and I for lunch?" Jim suddenly clapped him hard on the shoulder, startling the conman and nearly making him choke in surprise. Managing to stifle the coughs that clawed at his throat, Nick shook his head.

"No, we wouldn't want to be a trouble."

"Nonsense! Becca would love the company. Like I said, we haven't had guests in a while. Besides, Ellis is doin' me a favour takin' Sara-Jean running, I gotta do something to repay him – so let us feed you!"

Nick rubbed absently at his shoulder, which stung slightly from the sudden slap of the man's large hand. He'd wanted to get Ellis home as soon as possible...but maybe that was part of the problem with Ellis. The boy already admitted to liking the laid-back atmosphere of travel, and how he didn't really want to go home right away anyways. Besides, what was one more day to relax, especially when it included a free lunch? It certainly made no sense to deny it in favour of fast-food and road tripping.

"Well, I suppose we could. I don't think Ellis would mind."

"That's awesome! We'll let the kid have a few more minutes and head on down to the house. You gotta meet my wife, she's the prettiest woman you'll ever meet, an' she's the best cook, too!" Jim grinned with pride and whistled, the pitch slightly different than it had been when he'd whistled earlier. Nick itched at his ear, the frequency of the noise only slightly irritating.

The big black horse from before lumbered back over the hill, trotting up to the duo looking to all the world like royalty with his head head high and his steps quick and deliberate.

"This here is Myron, finest Stallion to ever live."

The man clapped the horse on the back. Nick shifted on the fence, slowly stepping off to stand a little ways away from the massive animal.

"So you said we had to head down to the house. How far is it from here?"

Having not yet been over the hill, Nick assumed there must have been some sort of barn, and maybe the house too. But there was no way for him to be absolutely sure without asking or walking over there to find out himself. With Ellis gallivanting around, hooting and hollering with glee at blurring speeds, Nick wasn't to eager to wander out into the open field.

He was expecting to be told that it was just over the hill.

Jim laughed, speaking slowly and taking time to choose his words.

"Oh, it 'aint too far at all, Nick. About ten minutes' distance, give or take."

"That's not too bad." The conman nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and slowly making his way up the hill, expecting the man to be right behind him with his massive horse – both of which he assumed would keep him from getting trampled by any of the other horses darting about.

But Jim's voice was the only thing to follow him the short distance he travelled, laden with what sounded like amusement and accompanied with a sly, knowing smile.

"On horseback, of course."

"Shit."

* * *

**Helloooooo Frienndd  
Could you come over here?  
Hellooooo?  
Are you still there?**

**Aha! I am four days early because I'm awesome. This also means that I actually do have the next chapter done (woo-hoo!) Everything from this point on will be brand new, fresh off the press writing. So you'll have to excuse me if I'm a tad out of character with these two. It's been a while, so it might take a little bit to get back into the swing of writing them.**

**Anyways, please please please review, I get them while I'm at work, and each one does oodles to brighten my day. I do read each and every one and I have to thank a lot of you for sticking around a waiting for this - it means a lot to know you hadn't given up on this either. For those of you who are just starting now, don't be shy! Click the review button! I love all of you, even those of you I don't know :3**

**Thanks for reading this far!**

**Toodles,**

**Shmeeko**


	8. Chapter 8

Getting Nick on a horse proved to be impossible. He and the animal completely failed to get along. At first, the young man was stubborn and bitter, insisting he would rather walk the distance to the house then ride some smelly animal. The horse in question seemed to feel the exact same way about him. It would move whenever he tried to mount, buck when he actually got a good grip or simply trot in place to make it difficult for the human to keep his balance. There was many a time where the normally clean and composed Nick was thrown to the dirt, only to rise with a stubborn huff. His clothes were dusty and his hair was messy, strands sticking out of place in an unruly manner. What topped the frazzled look off was his face, flush from humiliation and annoyance, only just barely able to stand the obnoxious guffawing of the pint-sized horse prodigy nearby.

"C'mon Nick, it 'aint that hard. Ya grab the reigns, put yer foot in the strap an' hoist yerself up, real simple-like!"

"Shut up, Ellis. Unlike you, I don't frequently roll around in the muck with these creatures."

"Horses don' roll around in the muck, Nick."

"I beg to differ."

Jim was standing nearby, tenderly petting his big black stallion as he let the boys bicker. Ellis had been sent to fetch saddles and reigns on Sara-Jean from the barn that was apparently just over the hill. Of course, Myron had cooperated quite nicely with his long-time owner, but the black and white horse Nick was saddled with really wasn't all too impressed to be in that situation. Really, the pair was perfect for each other.

After another failed attempt at clambering on and staying there, Nick kicked angrily at the dirt.

"Screw this, I'm walking."

"But it's quite a ways away, boy, you might be at it for a while." Jim sheltered his eyes from the sun with his hand, shaking his head at Nick. Initially, the conman thought he looked disappointed, but upon closer inspection it seemed the friendly cowboy was just as amused as Ellis was.

"Better than fighting with this stupid creature."

The horse neighed loudly, then trotted off as if it knew it had been insulted.

"I think you upset 'im," observed Ellis.

"Aww. What a shame."

"So ol' Daniel don't feel like bein' ridden, that doesn't mean you can't still ride a horse, Nick."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you kin ride with me, Nick!" Ellis grinned from ear to ear and twisted round to lightly pat the space behind him. As if not being able to get on the horse hadn't been enough of a blow to his pride, a twelve-year-old was going to show him up and ride a horse _for_ him.

"Please. You'll probably get us lost."

Ellis tittered, not at all phased by the stab at his sense of direction.

"Yer juss bitter 'cause you can't ride a horse properly."

"I don't need to ride a horse. We have cars now. And they don't buck and throw out their riders."

"Cars just 'aint the same, boy." Jim approached the duo with his horse in tow. "There 'aint nothing like riding a horse."

"Again, I beg to differ."

Jim raised an eyebrow as he thought for a moment, then shook his head and began guiding Nick towards Sara-Jean and Ellis.

"Just clamber on, boy, it won't be for long."

Nick mumbled curses under his breath as he struggled to climb up on top of Sara-Jean, who actually stood still and patient the entire time, likely because of Ellis's soothing words, compliments and steady stroking of her mane wile his elder counterpart struggled with gravity. Soon however, Nick had managed to find a place on the saddle behind Ellis.

"This is uncomfortable."

"Suck it up, ya big baby." Jim patted Sara-Jean as he and Myron passed. Ellis gave the reigns a flick and away they trotted at a steady pace behind the old cowboy. Nick bounced up and down uncomfortably on the saddle, muttering a nasty curse every few seconds.

"Hey, guy-who-doesn't-swear-every-five-minutes, quit swearin'"

"This sucks. How can you ride these things?"

"Brace yerself with yer knees an' quit tryin' to keep yerself down. Yer gonna bounce around, so just stay loose 'n it won't be so bad."

Nick continued to grumble profanities under his breath, but did as the kid instructed. What he recommended actually helped, but he still preferred the smooth course of his Corvette. He cast an uncertain gaze behind him, praying his car would be alright on the side of the road for longer than he thought it would be.

They traveled through a small, man-made forest that was admittedly quite pleasant. A wide river cut through it and the shade offered welcome relief from the hot sun. Despite it being hick-owned and out in the middle of nowhere, Nick had to admit it was a gorgeous landscape. Not somewhere he'd want to live personally, but definitely quite pretty to look at, especially as they came over a larger hill and got to see more of the many acres of land owned by the friendly old man and his wife.

Their house suited the land. It was one of those traditional white, wooden houses with green shutters and a rolling green lawn. A white picket fence bordered the two-story house, and there was an old-fashioned wood balcony, complete with a little old lady in a white rocking chair on the front porch.

"Becca, we got company!"

The woman on the porch rose from whatever it was she was doing – it looked like needlepoint – and leaned over the railing.

"Jim! Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've freshened up and tidied!"

"The place already is pretty darn tidy!" Jim stopped at the front gate and got off Myron, Ellis threw one leg over the side and hopped off without fear. Nick, however, hesitated upon the tall horse, looking over the side to the ground with a grimace. Slowly and carefully, he pulled one leg over to the side and slid off, only feeling comfortable again when his feet touched the ground. He didn't realize Ellis had been watching him with a goofy, amused grin until the conman turned around to see it, after which the boy burst out into an uncontrollable laughter.

"Alright boys," said Jim, "I'm going to go put these horses in the stable, why don't you go up the yard and meet the missus?"

Ellis was already dashing 'up the yard', having fled from a backhand meant for his head from Nick. Both strangers came up to the porch together, however, as Ellis waited for his comrade to catch up before proceeding. The woman standing on the steps above them was small, her white hair in a bun and clad in a pair of faded jeans and a white shirt. She clasped her hands together in front of her and gave the two a friendly smile.

"Hello there, boys, my name is Rebecca Marshall."

"'M Ellis, and this here is Nick!" Again, Nick was introduced before he had a chance to decide whether or not he wanted to share his name. Nevertheless, he waved a hand in greeting as Ellis bounded up the stairs two at a time.

"Jim let us ride yer horses, an' then invited us to lunch. Is tha' okay?"

"Of course dear! I only wish he'd given me more warning...then I could've actually prepared a good meal, maybe cleaned the house up...and I wouldn't look like such a slob."

"Aw, I don't think you look like a slob at all, ma'am." Ellis beamed up at the old woman, who chuckled and patted the boy on the head, giving him the approval he was looking for.

"Well aren't you just the sweetest little thing! Come on inside, I'll show you around."

Becca guided the pair about the first floor of her house, but the by the time she got around to talking about the second floor, Jim came in through the front door.

"So, Becca, what's fer lunch?"

"I haven't the foggiest, Jim, I wasn't expecting guests!"

"Well they don' need anything fancy..."

"Nonsense James, they're our guests and we will treat them to something worth visiting for!"

"O'course!"

Ellis and Nick exchanged a glance, unsure where to fit themselves into this situation. They simply stood aside and watched as Becca paced through the hall, clearly giving the matter a great deal of thought. After a few seconds of silence that slowly began to become awkward, she snapped her fingers and turned on her heel.

"Alright, what about a fresh Caesar salad, some seasoned ham, fresh bread and potatoes? How's that sound?"

"Sounds like an awful lot," said Nick quietly.

"Sounds delicious!" was Ellis's excited chirp. He gave Nick a shove and dashed for the kitchen, excited by the prospect of food. He was stopped when Rebecca held out an arm, blocking his path.

"Ah, ah! Boy, you're gonna go give Jim a hand out on the farm. You gotta work for your food here,"

"What happened to 'em bein' guests, Becca?"

"Guests can still work for their meals, Jim!"

Jim held up his hands in surrender and motioned for Ellis to follow.

"C'mon, kid, let's go get started." While Jim and Ellis headed back for the door, Becca huffed and smoothed out her pants, then vanished into the kitchen. Nick stood awkward and alone in the foyer, looking from the door to the kitchen, unsure where he was supposed to go.

Eventually, the woman stuck her head back into the hallway.

"Well come on, boy, you're helping me in the kitchen!"

Nick sighed.

"Why me?" he asked, though it wasn't a whine, just a simple question asked in curiosity.

"You don't seem the type to be a good farmhand, and you might as well do something." Becca was already whisking around the kitchen, filling the counter with various supplies as she went. While he waited, Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched with a frown. When she walked by, the small woman gave his arm a good smack.

"Hey!"

"Hands out of your pockets! You're gonna be handling food, boy. Roll up your sleeves and give your hands a good wash in the sink there."

Nick did as he was told while Becca set to work. He intentionally took as much time to wash as he could, simply because he wasn't ready to face the fact that he didn't already know what he should do next, something he wasn't used to feeling. Eventually, Becca leaned over his shoulder, pausing her whirlwind of movement.

"They're clean enough, Nicholas, come knead some dough."

Becca just about dragged him over to the counter where she had amounted a small ball of dough. Shrugging, Nick set to work while Becca resumed whizzing about the kitchen.

"So," said Becca, "What are the two of you doing out here?"

"Just passing through."

"Oh? Where are you heading?"

"Savannah."

"Ah, so that's where that accent is from."

Nick nodded, staring down at his flour-covered hands with a small smile.

"Don't tell him that, though. He'll insist it's everyone else with an accent and not him."

Becca chuckled.

"So do you and your husband own all this land?"

"We do. It's been in my family for generations."

"It's beautiful. You're lucky to have it."

"Why thank you, Nicholas. I take it you're not from around here?"

"No."

"And whereabouts are you coming from?"

"Chicago."

Becca was suddenly at his side with a mixing bowl, though Nick was unsure what it was she was mixing.

"You're quite far from home. What're you doing out with a Savannah boy in Texas?"

Nick paused from his work, lifting his head to look towards Becca, who was now devoting her attention to a large ham. He mulled over how much to say at this time, and simply shrugged.

"Just sort of...a cross country move."

"I see."

Becca's tone told him she knew he was leaving her in the dark, but she didn't press him for information, and for that he was grateful. Instead, the pair set about their respective tasks and listened to the silence for a while. Nick still kneaded away at dough in a distracted manner, while Rebecca whisked around the kitchen like a tornado. In front of the counter was a large bay window, looking out towards the barn and fields, where Nick could see Ellis and Jim moving about, waving and yelling to each other, carrying things here and there and leading animals about the farm with a purpose.

"Would you believe he wasn't born a farmboy?" Becca was at his side again, this time with a head of lettuce.

"...Sorry?" In his semi-attentive thought, Nick almost thought she was talking about Ellis. He was about to correct her when she suddenly swept the dough out of his fingers and commanded he wash again. As he did, she elaborated.

"When I met Jim, he was an investment banker – a mighty rich one at that."

This, Nick had trouble believing. His eyes looked to the barn that housed the man of whom she spoke.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I know it's hard to believe, boy – here, take this and wash it clean – but Jim was the richest man in town way back when...His dad and mine were friends, so I'd known him since I was young, but never really bonded with him until we were older. He helped me out on the farm one day and just fell in love with the land."

Nick was only dedicating a fraction of his attention to his appointed chore of washing lettuce. He didn't know why, but something was telling him this was a story worth paying attention to.

"You wouldn't think it, if you'd known him then, but he was a natural with the land. We fell in love working this farm together. With all his money I think eventually the only reason he was helping my father on the farm was to get closer to me." Becca chuckled to herself as she worked to dice something beneath her hands. "It was amazing. He went from a stuffy, uptight banker to a carefree cowboy in a matter of weeks...it's amazing how people change for the ones they love."

Nick found himself transfixed by the old woman's pleasant smile – something that seemed completely at peace, but still carried the weight of something tragic behind it.

"So the farm is yours?"

"It was my family's, yes. I was the first girl born into this family in quite a long time. But when Jim and I got married, my father happily handed responsibility of the farm down to Jim and I."

"He quit his job at the bank to become a farmer?"

"He sure did."

"What did he do with all the money?"

Becca caught the young man in a sideways glance, staring at him curiously for a few moments. Nick stared back for as long as his pride would allow, then he ducked his head and continued washing, aware he was still being studied. Eventually, Becca laughed and shook her head, but her tone was heavy and saddened.

"He put it away when he moved in here...he was going to put it towards raising a child."

The young conman instantly detected by the solemn tone and sudden sag in the woman's shoulders that this was not a happy subject. Slowly, as if he'd disturb her mourning otherwise, he moved to turn the tap off.

Rebecca raised her old blue eyes to the window, finding that the boys who were supposed to be working were terribly off task. They darted around the barn throwing clumps of grass and dirt at one another, diving and rolling in the mud like small children. Ellis was excused for this behaviour, but from Jim it was a little strange for the conman to watch.

"He's great with kids...probably because he's a kid at heart himself...he would've made a terrific father." Becca's expert hands stopped moving under her saddened stare. Nick's heart clenched in discomfort, unsure what to do or say in this moment of one woman's sudden depression.

"What happened?" he said at last. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Rebecca sighed and went into the drawer. While the young man was expecting some trinket of old to be withdrawn, instead she drew out a large knife.

"Here, start breaking up the lettuce."

Nick shut his mouth, pressing his lips tightly together as he accepted the knife from the woman and quietly went about working, assuming that this was her way of saying she did in fact mind him asking.

But again he was wrong, her response was just delayed.

"It just wasn't mean to be," she said sadly. "We tried - by golly we tried and we prayed and we did everything we could. But Jim and I...we weren't meant to be parents. Jim was heartbroken...he was so hopeful to start a family...but God clearly meant another future for us...one that involved taking care of this land and its animals like we would a child..."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, don't apologize. It's in the past. We've lived quite happily here together...But every now and again I see Jim and I'm reminded of how great a man he is, and how much greater a father he would have been."

Unsure what to say once again, Nick nodded, shifting in discomfort at Rebecca stared out at her husband with a smile. Jim had gotten the hose and now chased the little southern boy with the water.

"My wife..." Nick's mouth began to work before he could truly think of what information he was ready to share. He stopped himself before progressing any further, but the damage had already been done. Rebecca's eyes were on him, patient and expectant. What was worse was that his mind had drifted to the events he'd almost unwittingly shared. He couldn't stop thinking about it now.

"My wife..." he said again, "was pregnant...just over a year ago..."

"Your wife?" Rebecca echoed, voice soft and gentle.

"My ex-wife," corrected Nick, shaking his head. "She was pregnant the second year into our marriage...A little girl...We picked out a name almost as soon as we knew." The young man smiled. "She was going to be our little princess. We were so excited..."

Rebecca frowned, and Nick had a feeling she knew what was coming.

"But she miscarried...and then after...everything just fell apart..."

Silence blanketed the little kitchen as both adults stared in a daze out the window and down to the carefree duo running about. Rebecca was the first to break the silence.

"Do you think of Ellis as a son?"

"No." Nick's answer was immediate and definite – without any hesitation or doubt. Then, his expression became thoughtful. Rebecca waited patiently for the boy to straighten out his thoughts, standing in an open, accepting silence as the well-dressed man gazed out to the mud-covered child, studying the boy and his own thoughts simultaneously. "But...I do care for him," these words came out with a sigh, one that resonated with surrender and defeat. He spent so much time denying that the boy was anything more than a hitchhiker to him. He denied it to others and to himself, saying it now was like lifting an immense weight from his shoulders.

But he felt as if he'd lost an immense battle to the boy, even if he wasn't around to see his own victory.

"You seem like brothers."

Nick made an unimpressed face, but more out of habit then genuine distaste.

"We don't look anything alike."

"No, no. That's not what I meant. You don't look alike. It's hard to explain...It's not in your appearances, but in your attitudes. Like...a mutual understanding of one another?"

"Nonsense. I don't understand him at all. He's insane, stubborn and difficult."

Again, Rebecca chuckled. This time it sounded like she knew something he didn't.

"Is that so?"

Infamously left with nothing to say, Nick shrugged and devoted most of his attention to his task at hand. Rebecca seemed to understand that the kid was too stubborn to accept anything he wasn't ready for, so she launched back into the flurry of a professional in the kitchen. Nick, moving far slower than the old and experienced woman, stared down at his hands with a conflicted expression.

If he was so convinced he'd just lost a battle...why did he feel like he was still fighting one?

When the two farm-going individuals stumbled back through the door, the time of day had shifted out of lunch and was just beginning to approach dinner. The two southerners laughed and panted together, pulling off their muddy shoes and racing one another for the kitchen. The younger and more agile Ellis was the first to come sliding through the door with a giggle.

"Woohoo! Food!"

The old woman whirled, swatting at the boy who had attempted to take a slice of fresh bread with her wooden spoon. Ellis withdrew, not hurt – but surprised.

"Absolutely not!" She said sternly, shaking her spoon at him in a scolding manner. "You are _covered_ in mud, young man! And _you!_" Nick cast a gaze over his shoulder, tossing salad in a lazy manner that said he was very bored with his job. He'd thought the woman was scolding him again, but instead she was shaking that spoon at Jim, who huffed in the doorway no less muddy than the youth. "You are just as bad! Both of you are going to get properly washed up before either of you get so much as a nibble of food!"

Jim pouted and Ellis pulled at his shirt with a frown, studying the mud before turning his attention to the woman in desperation.

"But I ain't got any change o' clothes. I can't get any cleaner if this is all I got ta change into! I want food, too!"

Rebecca huffed, caught at an impasse but unwilling to fold.

"We have a change of clothes for you in the car, Ellis." Nick turned to face out into the kitchen, leaning back on the counter as he spoke.

"Yea, but thass all the way in the car! We dunno how far away that is!"

"It's on a road, right?" Jim wiped some mud and sweat from his forehead. Inwardly, Nick grimaced. Becca had been very right. He certainly was not the type to be a farmhand.

"Unless it drove itself away, yes."

"Well then you an' I can go get it, Nick. Ellis can get a wash while we're gone, an' by the time he's done we'll be back with some fresh clothes."

"You're going to make that poor boy sit in a small space with you, Jim? You're filthy!"

"Ellis don't seem to mind the 'filth' so much," he gestured to the kid, who beamed at the mention, "so what's the problem?"

"There isn't a problem. I manage to sit in a confined space with Ellis for hours, a few minutes with your husband is nothing, Mrs. M." Nick pushed himself away from the counter and approached the cowboy who stood waiting in the doorway, ignoring the protest from the pint-sized southerner at the subtle insult.

"Hey!"

"Now Nick, don't be mean. You boys play nice."

Nick shrugged and Ellis stuck out his tongue while Rebecca and James exchanged a look. Only Nick was observant enough to consider the meaning behind the saddened expression the old couple shared. The young man realized what sort of memories the bickering boys must have been stirring and instantly went to correct their insensitive error – not that Ellis knew any better.

"Go clean up, Ellis. We'll get your clothes and be back in a few minutes."

The boy scuffed at the ground with his foot.

"Awright," he turned to leave, but only got a few paces down the hall before he came dashing back. "Hey wait, where's yer bathroom?"

"Upstairs, the first door on the left."

"Right'o!"

With the energetic thundering of footsteps, Ellis was off. Becca turned back to her preparations, while Jim lead Nick to the front door and out into the yard, where they approached a dusty and beaten Ford pick up. The young man wrinkled his nose in distaste, but said nothing in protest to the man's choice of vehicle. He quietly got into the passenger seat and waited while Jim fought with the engine. It took a few tries, but eventually the machine rattled to life with the turn of the key.

"Got any idea where you parked in relation to here?"

"Probably parallel to this road, just back further."

The Ford sputtered to the end of the drive and down the road with far less problems than Nick was expecting. Though in all honesty, the conman was expecting the junker to fall apart any minute.

"That boy's got a lot o' spirit, y'know?"

"I know."

"You said you were bringing him back home?"

"Yeah."

"How'd he get so turned around in the first place?"

Nick shrugged and tried to stare out the window – but his view was obscured by the dirt and dust that still clung to the glass.

"Not for me to say."

Jim bobbed his head slowly, understanding.

"I see."

"Rebecca told me you used to be one of the richest men in town," Nick inwardly punched himself. He'd intended to change the subject, yes, but not to money. He felt greedy in asking about it again, but it was the first thing his mind jumped to, something he couldn't necessarily help. Thankfully, Jim didn't seem to mind. He just kept bobbing his head in confirmation. "So why do you drive such a beat up junker?"

"Suits me, an' it's a good car. Been working all these years just fine, after all."

"But you could probably afford something better."

"Maybe."

Suddenly, Nick got the impression that his questions weren't the best to be asking. So again he stared into the dirt on the window, huffing indignantly under his breath and folding his arms across his chest. It didn't take much longer for Jim to point ahead.

"That your car, boy?"

Just ahead, parked on the side of the road where it had been left, was the shining silver Corvette. They pulled up beside it slowly, Jim rolling down the dirty window to get a better look.

"That's one damn fine car."

Nick's eyes wandered from his car to the old man staring at it with a distant expression. Again, his mouth worked before he could stop it.

"Would you like to take it for a drive?"

This question was not immediately answered. Instead it hung in the thick atmosphere of the little truck while Jim stared out to the car. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, his expression hidden from the young man beside him.

Eventually, Jim let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, smiling.

"Naw. I don't drive those kinds o' cars anymore. Don't need to."

Nick stared a while longer, trying in vain to read the mind of the old man. He gave up, of course, and simply hopped out of the truck and returned to his own vehicle. He first checked the trunk to ensure their belongings were still there, including the change of clothes meant for Ellis. When everything was accounted for, he gave Jim a thumbs up and ducked into the driver's seat. Not unintentionally, Nick made the engine roar when it started and took off down the road, leaving an impressive dust trail in his wake.

When they returned, as predicted Ellis was done washing. He'd made quick work of it, and when Nick had gone upstairs to deliver his things, the boy was sticking his head out the door in nothing more than a towel.

"That was fast," said Nick, who was used to taking his time in getting clean.

"I wasn't that dirty, really. Didja get my stuff?"

Nick scoffed.

"No, I went driving around with some ancient cowboy for the fun of it."

He held up the duffel bag which contained what few possessions Ellis had on their trip. The boy stepped out of the bathroom with an annoyed expression.

"Hey, don't be makin' fun of Jim. He's an awesome guy."

"I wasn't making fun of him. I was simply making a point."

"Oh? An' what point is that?" The challenge in the boy's voice was obnoxious and unmistakable. Nick couldn't resist smothering the boy's attitude with his own.

"He's old, he's a cowboy and you're stupid. Take your stuff and get changed, Jim's gotta get cleaned up too and I'm sure Rebecca's getting sick of waiting."

Ellis grumbled something under his breath, but snatched his bag from Nick and locked himself back in the bathroom. As Nick was left staring at the wooden door that had practically been slammed in his face, he got that sensation once more – the weight on his shoulders and the feeling in his gut that said he was still fighting a battle he'd already lost.

It wasn't long before they were all seated around the table, the food arranged neatly by the lady of the house before them. Nick and Rebecca's efforts combined had produced fresh bread, fresh salad and an impressive-looking ham that Becca wouldn't let her young helper even _look_ at the wrong way, in fear that he'd 'ruin the flavour'. Regardless of the process to create the little feast, it looked great.

Nick reached for a salad bowl, only to have his hand swatted by Rebecca, yet again.

"Ow, what?"

"We don't start until we've said grace, boy!"

Nick said nothing in response, refusing to let the colour flush to his face and managing to maintain a composed expression. He brought his hands back to his lap, his composure only breaking when he saw Ellis snicker.

"Let us pray," Jim brought his hands together in prayer and bowed his head. Ellis and Rebecca seemed to automatically mirror the same action in unison. Nick was the last to bow his head, if only for the reason that he was the only one present who wasn't used to 'saying grace' before a meal. "Bless us, O lord, and thank you for these gifts we are about to receive from your bounty and the company we are blessed to share them with. Through Christ, our lord, Amen."

Again in unison, Ellis and Rebecca echoed the word, leaving Nick feeling incredibly out of place and mumbling the word under his breath in annoyance. Even though the prayer had been finished by typical standards, Nick waited for the 'man of the house' to serve himself first, just in case Rebecca saw fit to swat him again for poor manners.

But no, he was allowed to eat now and happily did so. With everything being as fresh as it possibly could be, it definitely had to be one of the best meals Nick had in a long time. If anything, the meal's worth could be measured in the occupied silence that came with people being too busy eating to make idle conversation. Eventually, however, Ellis proved to be stubbornly consistent with his dislike for quiet.

"This is delicious, Miss Becca, you make a fine meal!" The boy grinned as charmingly as he could manage, but the expression only looked cheesy and over-excited. It seemed to please Rebecca none the less, for she smiled right back at him.

"You're welcome Ellis, though you should be thanking Nick too, he was really quite helpful."

Ellis's blue stare fixed on the man and something flashed in those eyes, something that told Nick he was still a little annoyed for the conman's earlier comment. The boy smirked and in a tone laden with mockery, mumbled down at his plate.

"Thank you, _Miss Nick_."

Nick gave him a hard kick under the table, which shook as Ellis drew upwards quickly and smashed his knees against the underside.

"Ow, hey!"

"Boys! Behave yourselves, please!"

The room was overcome with a heavy silence. Being the first to sense it, Nick cast a concerned stare to the elderly couple. They'd linked hands over the table and smiled at one another, though their smiles were saddened. The conman began cursing up a storm in his head, not fond of making this old couple look sad and feeling awkward because of it.

Eventually, James cleared his throat and kicked up another conversation.

"Ellis is one fine rider, Becca."

"Oh?"

"He an' Sara-Jean got along like a house on fire."

Nick scoffed, never quite able to understand that expression. He didn't think a 'house on fire' was a good thing to be like. Houses on fire meant destruction, loss and danger.

"Well that's wonderful! S.J. Usually isn't that accepting of strangers, Ellis, you should consider yourself lucky!"

"Oh I sure do, Missus M. She's a nice horse, real purdy."

"Jim keeps her well groomed."

"I wanted him to ride in this weekend's show for me, he's got natural talent."

Becca smiled and Ellis's eyes widened. An excited grin slapped itself on his face. Seeing this, Nick found himself frowning. That enthusiasm was about to be shot down, and Nick would look like the cause of it. He would appear to be the villain of the situation, when in reality, he was only being someone else's hero.

"I would love to!"

"Well, I thought ya might, but I asked Nick, an' he said the two of you have to keep going."

At first, Ellis shot a glare to the conman, who shrugged and said nothing. He wouldn't change his mind on this. He was right, they needed to get the boy home sooner rather than later. He wasn't going to be spending the week with this old couple just because Ellis was reminded that he liked to ride horses. When the boy realized he wasn't getting a reaction, he went back to quietly eating his food.

"So, Ellis," said Rebecca at last, "What is a Georgian native doing out here?"

Ellis looked up from his meal.

"How'd you know I was Georgian?"

"Nick told me you were from Savannah. I'm just assuming you were born there, considering how thick that accent is."

The boy shrugged and smiled, "Well, I got a bit lost a while ago an' ended up in San Francisco...Nick here is bringin' me home."

"...Is that true, Nick?"

The conman nodded, but continued staring down into his meal, not wanting to see whatever expression of contempt or 'I-told-you-so' the woman was wearing.

"Well, aren't you a lucky boy, to run into someone like Nick who's willing to do that for you!"

"Yeah, I don' think I kin ever really repay 'im."

"I can see how you'd feel that way. But don't worry about that now. Worry about getting home to your mom. She must be ever so glad there are people like Nick in the world."

At this, Nick jumped on the opportunity presented to him.

"Actually, she doesn't know about me." He said flatly, fixing Ellis with a stern look. "He hasn't been able to get a hold of her yet. She still thinks he's lost."

Jim choked on his drink, while Rebecca dropped her fork. Both gazes snapped to the boy.

"What? You haven't called your mother?" The old woman looked immeasurably surprised. Jim was meanwhile doing his best not to cough up a lung. "She doesn't know where you are?"

The woman's tone was getting louder, so Ellis held up his hands in immediate surrender.

"I did try an' call her, honest!" he exclaimed "But...things never really worked out righ'..."

Nick shook his head, smirking down into his plate as his mind raced. Leave it to Ellis to be terribly unable to lie to perfectly good people. He couldn't outright say he hadn't been trying very hard to contact his mother, but he could skirt around the truth with something like 'things never really worked'.

However, Rebecca wanted no excuses. She rose from her chair and dropped her napkin on the table.

"Well come on boy, it's not fair to your mother to leave her in the dark. You can use our phone to call her now."

"No, no, I couldn'...Wouldn't it cost ya money?"

"Boy," Jim wheezed, "go call your mother." The old man was standing as well, leaning heavily on his chair. Ellis looked to Nick for some form of salvation, but the conman paid him no attention. He picked absently at his salad with a fork, expertly hiding his celebratory thoughts behind a seasoned poker face.

"Well, awright."

Ellis rose from his seat and allowed himself to be ushered away by the frantic old woman. Jim went to follow, leaving the young man alone in the kitchen. He could only sit silently to himself for so long, and quickly found himself up and following the party out into the living room. Ellis had been seated on a large armchair while Jim dragged the table with the phone closer.

"Hurry up an' dial, child!" Becca held out the receiver of the phone, looking concerned for the boy and likely his worried mother too. Ellis was hesitant, but obedient. He took the phone from the woman's long fingers and dialed slowly. Rebecca stood straight while Jim put his arm around her. They missed the nauseous expression on the boy's face, but Nick could see it clearly.

He was scared to face his mother.

Silence re-introduced itself to the room as Ellis held the phone to his ear and waited. The old couple seemed to be holding their breaths, while Nick simply gave the boy a dissecting stare, trying to guess what the boy was thinking.

The silence lasted uncomfortably long, and then finally:

"Mama?"

The tension in the room eased with a sigh as Ellis scooted forward on the armchair and stared wide-eyed ahead.

"Mama, it's me, Ellis!"

Nick couldn't hear what the woman was saying on the other end, but by watching Ellis's changing expression, he could tell that whatever it was successfully drew out the boy's guilt.

Their sudden mission accomplished, Jim lead his wife away from the boy by his arm around her shoulders. They proceeded back into the kitchen, passing Nick as they went but making no notification that he had to follow them. This was a good thing, as Nick had no intentions of leaving the boy at the moment. He was content to stand back and watch – watch the boy's expression and feel the atmosphere in the room change with his moods.

"I know, Mama, but it's okay! I'm okay, momma I'm-"

There was an inaudible chatter from the other line. The only thing the young man could clearly make out was that it was loud and fast chatter. Try as he may, Ellis couldn't get a full sentence in.

"I'm fine, Ma, I promise-"

"Yeah, I know, I-"

"I'm sorry, I wuz-"

"Mama! Mama please don't cry!"

Those words tugged at Nick's heart again, not for the implications they carried – he expected the woman to be bawling her eyes out. No, the problem was that, Ellis was not prepared for her unhindered sadness. His expression had gone from excited, to overwhelmed, to this saddened look, and now his wide blue eyes brimmed with tears. His voice shook as he pleaded with his mother and fought the tears so desperately.

"Mama I know, I'm sorry, please don't cry, I didn't-"

Finally, the line went silent. Ellis still held the phone to his ear, and despite the sudden quiet, Nick could tell the woman hadn't suddenly hung up. He could hear some form of noise coming out from the phone – probably her efforts to control her sobbing. Neither of the phone call participants spoke for a while, and Nick suddenly felt very out of place. He shifted, beginning to entertain the idea of joining the old couple in the kitchen when Ellis's eyes found his.

That look was there again. That terribly saddened, broken look that the man had first seen in the bus stop.

He was rooted in place.

"Mama, I miss you," whispered Ellis.

He'd stopped fighting the tears.

"I'm so sorry, Mama, I dinn't mean ta hurt you...I'm so sorry an' I miss you so much...Please don't be sad..."

Both of the boy's hands held the phone close to him, his face contorted in pain and sadness, flush with emotion and wet with tears. Suddenly overcome with the feeling that he was intruding where he shouldn't be, Nick looked away, staring absently at a landscape painting as he listened – trying to look as if he was no longer paying attention.

"San Francisco. Yeah...yeah...I'm okay, Ma... Naw, 'm in Texas now. Yeah, Texas. I got a buddy who is-"

"No ma, he 'aint a bad man, he's takin' me home! He's driven me all the way to-"

"Yeah, Texas!"

"Nick, Ma. He's a good guy. Bin a real saint to me. I'mma be home soon, promise."

"Wha? Well...I don' see why not. But...why?"

"Oh...I suppose. ...Yeah Mama, I won' leave."

"Promise."

"Nick." The young man turned his head to look at the boy, who was trying to muster a smile, but seemed so emotionally exhausted that the expression just came out tired and worn. He held out the receiver to him. "Ma wants to talk to ya fer a bit, if ya don't mind."

"No, of course not." Nick approached the boy to take the phone from him, but he suddenly pulled it back and cradled it against his chest for a moment.

"You gotta be nice to her, Nick, ya can't make her cry no more!"

"I won't." Nick held out his hand, palm open, to take the phone. When Ellis felt confident enough to surrender it, Nick didn't wander off – not that he could have, considering it wasn't cordless. Even if he had been able to, he wouldn't have left. Part of him simply wanted to stay close to the kid, for the reasons of seeing that expression chased away and not walking off with his mother on the line.

"Hello?"

"Hello, are you Nick?"

"I am."

"Thank you." The voice on the other line was quiet, shaky and the woman's words were whispered with such a tone of gratitude, Nick was almost instantly humbled.

"Don't mention it, ma'am, he's a good kid."

"You're gonna take good care of my boy, righ'?"

"Of course."

"I don't think I can pay you for this, though..."

"You don't have to. This is something I'm doing because I want to, I don't expect payment."

The woman was quiet for a little while longer before she spoke again in a voice so quiet, Nick strained to hear her.

"Is he okay?"

"He's just fine, ma'am. I promise I'll have him home as soon as I can."

"Thank you. Thank you so much..."

"Don't mention it."

"Now...could you...let me speak to my son again? Before you go?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

"Please, don't mention it. I'll have him call you every night or so – just so you know he's okay."

"Thank you..."

"'Bye."

Feeling strange and uneasy, Nick practically threw the phone at the boy and retreated to the other side of the room – prevented from leaving by his concern for the kid, but pushed away by his mother's repetitive thanks and the strange feeling her gratitude left him with. She had made him feel queasy and nervous and he couldn't place why. He simply hovered by the doorway, listening as Ellis struggled not to start crying again and spoke hushed affections to his mother, promising her his love and his safety. Unable to stand the feeling of intrusion anymore, the conman fully retreated back into the kitchen.

When Ellis entered a few minutes after him, all three adults snapped their attention to him. The boy stood in silence at the doorway for a while, his eyes on the floor and his hands clinging to the frame. He looked completely hollow – his conversation with his frantic mother having totally drained him of his seemingly boundless energy. Nick was speechless.

Rebecca was the first to rise. She pushed away from the table and glided over to the boy, sweeping him up into a tight hug. The boy returned the embrace at first out of courtesy, but soon Nick heard muffled sobs and Ellis's hands clung to the back of the woman's shirt.

Jim rose and approached the pair, a large hand coming to rest on the boy's shoulder, who still clung desperately to the kind old woman who held him.

Nick stared down at the table, feeling the weight pressing back on his shoulders and his stomach begin to churn. He clenched his fists in his lap as his stare turned to a harsh glare. He tried to will the feeling of guilt and pity away, telling himself he couldn't spare such feelings for the southern brat. He was only ferrying him to Georgia. He didn't have to care about the kid, too. Whatever he'd told Rebecca had been a lie – the simple act of telling the woman what she wanted to hear.

He didn't care.

Not about some kid.

He didn't have the time to care. He had his own life to worry about. There was no reason for him to concern himself with this boy any more than he already was. Just bring the kid home and leave.

Bring him home, then leave.

Then leave.

Why did that sound so difficult?

Nick felt eyes on him and looked up to see who they belonged to. He cleared his expression of all conflict and met the stare of the old southern man, who gave him an expectant look. For a moment, the youngster was unsure what to do. He sat awkwardly under that stare, able only to return it thanks to his practice at maintaining a mask.

Soon he understood, and defeated by the man's expectations he rose slowly.

Nick stepped away from the table and approached the huddle, stopping to stand nearby, expecting that to be enough to offer his support to the kid.

It wasn't.

Jim pulled his hand off the boy's shoulder and Ellis shifted, noting the young man standing nearby. Their eyes met, blue to green, and then suddenly Ellis broke away from the woman.

Instead, Nick found himself nearly knocked back by the force of a sudden, crushing hug. The boy clung to him now, his face buried in the man's shirt. He did not sob any more and his tears had stopped, but he still trembled and shivered, his shoulders shaking with the effort of suppressing his sadness for the person he sought an embrace from.

For a while, Nick simply stood, arms slightly raised to allow the boy to cling to him so, then slowly they came down. One hand came to rest on the boy's shoulder, while the other on a mop of messy hair. At this, Ellis held tighter, afraid that Nick was getting ready to push him away and reprimand him for being a pansy.

Honestly, Nick was waiting for his body to move and push the kid away from him. He waited for the pansy remark to fall from his tongue, but neither happened. Instead, he found his arms moving on their own accord, coiling around the child as he bent to the boy's height. At this, Ellis let a sob escape and the sound resonated in the young man's mind. He held the kid tightly, only then noting that the elderly couple had once again vacated the room. Slowly, Nick hit his knees, not surprised to find the boy sliding down as well. They huddled together on the floor, Nick keeping his emotions in check behind an unreadable mask as Ellis spilled his own out in tears.

They were so different.

"Thank you, Nick...fer everythin'."

"Thank you, Ellis," the conman returned quietly, "and I'm sorry."

"W-what for?"

Nick said nothing further, instead gently shushing the boy and letting him cry himself out in a peaceful, accepting silence.

* * *

**Hiiii everyone. Long time no see. -guilty wave-**

**For those of you who have stuck with me for so long and are still reading this, I love you. For your patience and tolerance, I promise you will see an end to this. It's not too far out now.**

**For those of who you are just joining us, or have recently reviewed, HELLO and thank you so much for your support!**

**I hate to ask anything more from any of you wonderful people, but if you could just lend your support further in the form of a review, I would be overjoyed. Returning to these reviews and re-reading them often gives me the kick in the pants I need to keep writing. I promise, every one of them gets read, and I'll respond to a handful of them too. Any words you have to say, good or bad, are appreciated.**

**Thanks so much for everything, and thanks for reading this far!**

**Toodles~**

**Shmee**


	9. Chapter 9

Jim took the boy back outside to help on the farm after dinner. Despite the emotionally shaking experience, the boy picked himself up like a champ and appeared to be right as rain in a matter of minutes. Nick, as much as he hated to admit it, had spent enough time with the kid to recognize when he was putting up a front. But the young man also felt no need to call out Ellis's performance.

Let him pretend to be dense for at least a little while longer.

So, while Jim and Ellis went back out to the barn to tend to the animals and ensure they too were well fed, Nick was left to his own devices. Becca shooed him out of the kitchen, insisting that he'd done enough to help and she could handle the cleaning on her own.

He wandered through the halls at first, examining the photos on the wall with a somewhat heavy heart as he reflected on the thoughts behind the subjects in each picture. They were mostly of Becca and Jim, captured with matching smiles. With each picture, the couple got older and older, but the smiles never changed.

Admittedly, that was something of a problem.

Nick couldn't help but to notice how those matching grins lacked true feeling. He was adept at reading people, and even in photos he could put those skills to use; that expression of happiness never truly reached the eyes.

Maybe a normal person wouldn't have noticed it, but to Nick it was painfully clear. They aged, they smiled, but that cheerful light was more absent in each photo he passed.

_We tried - by golly we tried and we prayed and we did everything we could. But Jim and I...we weren't meant to be parents._

Nick paused at what looked to be the most recent photo. Jim and Becca sat across from one another at the kitchen table, perched by the bay window with the rolling green fields of their lands colouring the horizon. They sat sideways in their chairs, facing the camera with their backs to the scenery, smiling the smile that had evolved through the years. Their hands linked over the table, and someone with less of an obsessive attention to detail might have missed the way they squeezed.

They looked happy, but the years were evident in their eyes, and there lingered such a sad acceptance that Nick couldn't bring himself to stare at long. He lowered his gaze and moved along into the living room, hating the empathy this aged couple had afflicted him with.

He cursed quietly to himself and collapsed all at once onto the couch. He buried his face in the pillow and breathed an annoyed sigh with effort into the fabric.

He lay still there for a moment, before shifting to grab the pillow and pull it over his head.

What bothered him so much was the knowledge that he _shouldn't_ care. He'd seen his fair share of tragedy, both in his own case and in the stories of others. Normally, he wouldn't care. He would feign sympathy for the sake of maintaining a trustworthy appearance, but when he turned his back his expression would fall with a huff and a roll of his eyes. He would give his apologies, his condolences, but never would he mean them.

But not now.

Now he couldn't help the terrible feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. His heart ached for the kindly couple who had everything but the thing they wanted most. He wished their circumstances had been different, he wished that their problem could have been solved. He wished he didn't have to feel their sadness in his gut, he wished he could ignore them as he did everyone else.

He couldn't, no matter how he tried to push them out, and he knew it was Ellis's fault.

He knew it because he ached more for that boy down on his luck than he had for anyone else. The stupid little kid, with his stories and his jokes and his smile-for-others attitude, had a vice grip on Nick's heart. He _cared._ He cared though he knew he shouldn't. He wanted the kid to be alright, wanted things to work out for him. He didn't want to see the bright-eyed boy saddened by the situation with his parents, he didn't want to hear him crying while attempting to reassure his mother, he didn't want to _care _about these things though it was getting harder and harder to deny that he did.

The man screwed his eyes shut, feeling incredibly old in that moment. But Ellis, with all his contradictory ways, suddenly settled himself on the forefront of the man's mind with a memory that crept on him quite suddenly.

_They call ya a kid, Nick. The world don't care how far apart we are in age, we're both kids to 'em._

How he knew it now.

That boy proved that the budding con artist wasn't as hardened and mature and in control of himself as he would like others to believe. He still had weaknesses, and damn if this boy didn't know exactly how to draw them out.

Nick cursed again, louder, into the cushion below him.

It wasn't okay. This wasn't a good thing. This sort of thing was a death sentence in his line of work. It would get him killed. It would get... It would get others killed. It had to stop.

But how? There was no way he could just stop Ellis from being himself – and thereby stopping whatever infectious innocence he carried with him.

Nick lay in silence, face down, on the old musty couch. One arm hung over the side, his knuckles scraping against the hardwood floors, while his other hand pushed the pillow into the back of his head. Pushing the kid out didn't work. He was an emotional powerhouse that effortlessly knocked down the walls anyone around him put up – how quickly he'd wormed his way into the hearts of Jim and Becca was just further proof of that. Even with Ben and that thug in San Francisco, tugging on heartstrings came as naturally to the good natured southerner as breathing.

At the end of a long breath out, Nick clenched his fists.

The answer was simple. He'd known it all along, but in an effort to appear indifferent to the child he'd been doing all the wrong things. Point A to Point B. That had always been the plan. Nick swore he'd take his time, he'd do the things he wanted to do in the cities they passed, but that was doing more harm than good. The more time he spent around this kid, the fonder he grew. He needed to get his shit together and get this trip over with. Get the kid home where he belonged, and where he was free to trample on the lives of other strangers as much as he pleased – far away from where Nick would be around to experience it himself.

He just had to go.

Nick felt himself relax, then becoming aware of how tense he'd been that entire time he'd cocooned himself in worrying thoughts. He lay there, still and silent, drifting off into an uneasy sleep repeating that one line to himself.

He just had to go.

He just had to go.

_Just go._

* * *

He awoke to a dark house. The sun had probably set hours ago, and Nick had no doubt Jim and Becca were the kind of people to take strangers in, especially if they'd seen Nick napping on the couch and decided he needed the rest. The man muttered annoyances under his breath and sat up, pushing his hair back with a hand and rising from the couch. As he crossed towards the kitchen he smoothed out the creases in his suit.

The kitchen was illuminated by the cold glow of the moon. The man searched for a note, something to confirm his suspicions, but found none and resigned to finding out the good-old-fashioned way. He quietly crept up the stairs, leaving the lights untouched in fear of breaking the peace of the little farm house.

The first door he tried was the bathroom door, and he scolded himself for not remembering as he continued to the next room. This second room looked to be a guest room, but the single bed pushed up against the wall was empty. Nick quelled his suspicions and decided Ellis was probably just in another room, and carried on his way down the hall.

When he stumbled upon an empty master bedroom, he began to panic. He called out, his throat dry and his voice hoarse from hours of silence.

"Hello?"

He cleared his throat and tried a second time, but got no response. The door at the end of the hall brought no better news. It was an office, just as bereft of human presence as the rest of the floor had been.

His heart slowly coming alive with a panic he hated, he thundered down the steps, his previous care to keep the peace forgotten.

"Ellis?" he called into the dark, unable to find a light switch along the wall of the foyer. "Ellis, where are you?!"

Silence answered his call all too absolutely, and Nick felt a chill creep up his spine. With a quiet growl, the man banished his concern and swept the first floor with professional efficiency, confirming his suspicions: no one was home.

He stormed next for the door, picturing a hillbilly campfire out in the yard where Jim played guitar along to Ellis's hoots and hollers while Becca roasted a pig on a spit. He was met with no such image, just a long field of grass that looked almost metallic in the moonlight, stopped only by a wall of dark trees.

His heart leaped to his throat and began hammering away there at a rate that probably wasn't healthy. He clutched at his chest as he gasped, scanning the empty fields all while trying to dismiss his panic.

Somewhere out in the darkness, a coyote let loose a lonely howl.

"Ellis?!"

Nick screamed out into the night, silencing the wild dog but drawing no other response.

The man stumbled down the stairs, still clutching his heart and knowing that he was not supposed to be hurting this much. He staggered out into the grass, gasping, calling out to a boy who would not answer, and was vaguely reminded of the panic attacks he would have as a child.

Then, just when he felt his heart would burst it was beating so fast, he heard it.

"Nick?"

The conman whirled, staring down at the boy who looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. Nick sighed far too loudly with releif, but he didn't care to mask his concern.

"Fuck, kid! Answer me when I call you!"

Ellis looked baffled.

"But Nick," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I gotta go."

"Go?" echoed the man. "Go where?"

The boy shrugged.

"Y'know, I just gotta go."

Nick narrowed his eyes, watching as the boy hid his own behind the bill of his hat. Nick studied the boy quickly, taking in his clenched fists and tense shoulders and knowing that Ellis was upset.

"Cut the crap, Ellis. What are you on about?"

Suddenly, the man was blinded by the flash of headlights. He shielded his eyes from the harsh light, only to find it surrounded him now. The light bathed their surroundings – coming not from the truck sitting in the drive but from the sun which now blazed bright above him.

"Oh," Nick said suddenly as his eyes adjusted to the new scene. "I'm dreaming."

"What?"

Ellis was standing on the end of the driveway, in front of a house the man had no recollection of ever seeing before. It looked normal enough, one-story with a quaint little garden and a beat-up pickup in front of the garage. Nick stood in the middle of the street, surrounded by trashier looking houses and shacks at the end of dirt paths.

"I'm dreaming, Ellis," Nick said to the boy, as if he would understand. Unsurprisingly the kid just made a face and shrugged, then turned on his heel and started up the drive. Nick went to follow, but found his legs stopped cooperating after a few steps.

"Where you going?" he asked. Ellis stopped, but did not turn, his fists still clenched and his head now bowed.

"I'm just goin'" he muttered. "I gotta, righ'? 'm home now, after all."

Nick looked again to the house before him, and then realized that his legs would not carry him past the curb – would not let him cross onto the property. He couldn't follow Ellis where he went, plain and simple.

"This is your home?" Nick raised an eyebrow. He expected...different.

Ellis shrugged, and then continued towards the door. Before he could stop himself, Nick was calling out again.

"What's wrong?"

The boy stopped once more, his shoulders slumped like he'd been walking for miles, then turned to face the young man. He looked heartbroken, his blue eyes brimming with tears he fought fiercely to contain.

"Jus' like that, righ'? I gotta go," his voice cracked. "You gotta go, too, righ'? You got yer own life to get back to, an' I gotta go."

"Well, yeah, what else did you expect?" Nick felt that familiar ache in his chest at the broken expression the boy wore on his face. "I can't hang around you forever."

"Naw, 's not that. I jus'...yer not comin' back, are ya?"

"It's not likely." The man was honest, just as honest as he would be were this not a dream, a fact he had to remind himself of now and again. Everything seemed so real.

"Ever?"

"Again, it's not likely."

"Oh..."

Nick made a face at the dejected expression the boy returned to him.

"What'd you expect?" he repeated.

"I'unno, I jus'...I'unno...Do you gotta go?"

"Ellis."

"I know you're just gonna up 'n go. I've always known. But I don' want you to. How're we s'posed to go through all o' this crap together 'n then how 'm I s'posed to be okay with you jus' droppin' me off like a sack 'o shit 'n speedin' off into the sunset?"

"Ellis, you can't honestly expect me to just hang around Savannah for the rest of my life."

_- just for you_, Nick had to stop himself from adding.

"Naw...I dinn't...well I don'...I jus'..." the dam holding back those tears began to break, and Nick felt an awful guilt settle over him. "You can't jus' up 'n go like that...'s not fair."

"I'm sorry, Ellis."

"I'm sure you are," the boy said bitterly, "I'm sure you 'aint jus' gonna go 'n forget 'bout me like you do everyone else."

"Ellis..."

"'s not fair. Yer gonna go 'n forget 'n I'm gonna have to remember. An' yer gonna jus' expect me t'be okay with that!"

The kid made no effort to hide his angry tears as he pointed an accusing finger at Nick.

"I won't forget," Nick said, though entirely unintentionally he sounded impatient.

"That's bullshit! Total bullshit! You 'aint gonna remember me! Not like I'll remember you! You'll jus' up 'n move on!"

"Everyone does, Ellis, that's life."

"Naw don' even try it, man! People visit! People keep in touch! People don' jus' up 'n vanish 'cause they think it's _easier!"_

"It is easier, Ellis."

"It 'aint righ'!"

"It doesn't have to be."

"Yer jus' scared! Yer a coward!"

This made Nick go rigid, his eyes narrowing quickly. He tried to advance on the kid, but that invisible wall prevented him from crossing the threshold to the property.

"I'm not a coward, Ellis."

"You are 'n you know it! I know you know it! Yer scared of 'nyone messin' up yer image, or fuckin' with yer picture-perfect lifestyle, where fancy-suit Nick gets all the booze 'n the money 'n the girls 'n none of the strings attached!"

Nick dragged his fingers through his hair, propping a hand on his hip as he turned away from the boy and blew out air from between his teeth.

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Ellis," he grumbled, "I'm dreaming."

"O' course, 'cause the only reason you kin talk to me at all righ' now is cause yer dreamin'! Yer too much of a coward to face me in the real world, 'aint ya, Nicky?"

If Nick had frozen at the boy's earlier comment, this one made him burn. He whirled on the boy, leaning over the curb and willing his legs to move so he could go smack the shit out of Ellis for calling him that, for pulling up those memories.

"What the fuck did you just call me, kid?"

The boy straightened out, and with a composure that did not suit him at all, he repeated in a voice clean of his usual southern drawl.

"Nicky."

The word knocked him flat on his ass and kicked the wind from his lungs. He wheezed, and in the instant where his eyes had closed from the impact, the scene had changed. Nick sat in a room all too familiar. The room was in a house he knew to be of generous size, filled with expensive things, bought with inheritance and an overpaid salary. Maybe all of eight feet away from him sat a sleek black grand piano. Ellis sat at the keys, his fingers playing a quiet, familiar and somber tune with more skill than he knew the child to possess.

"Alright, I don't want to do this shit anymore. I want to wake up."

Nick smacked himself upside the head a couple times, but the pain didn't register, and the young man was left staring at the back of the boy who played on the piano from his childhood. In another blink, it wasn't Ellis anymore. It was a slight, lankly-looking child with dark hair combed to part on the right, dressed in a small suit tailored to fit him alone.

"Fuck," Nick picked himself up off the floor, coughed a few times at the irritation in his lungs, then turned away from the scene. The music continued, and though the notes weren't clear and sometimes he wasn't sure he could hear music at all, he recognized the tune all the same. Even if he couldn't hear it clearly, he remembered how it was supposed to sound.

"Nicky, no, Nicky, you- ugh, stop, stop. Just stop."

Nick turned, stuffing his hands in his pockets and putting on a mask of indifference as he watched a faceless woman pace back and fourth behind the boy. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and huffed. The music had stopped a while ago, but only now did the boy lift his fingers away from the keys.

"It sounds...ugh...I sounds wrong, Nicky. You're doing it wrong."

"Wrong, how, mother?" asked the boy in monotone.

"It just...It doesn't sound nice."

"It doesn't." It was intended as a question, but there was no raise in intonation to indicate that it was.

"No. You must be doing it wrong. Try again, from the top."

The boy began again, and the woman kept pacing, slower now.

"You know," hissed the woman, "if your father was here, I'm sure he'd know exactly how to fix this mess."

"But he's not, mother."

"Oh, don't I know it, Nicky. That good for nothing man. He's never done a single good thing in his life."

"Mother..."

"You're doing it wrong, Nicky, do it over."

The boy heaved a sigh and started over. This time, the woman wandered off before the song even reached its halfway mark. By the time it did, a faceless man stumbled past Nick on the way to the piano, a bottle in his hand. He sat beside the boy, listened for a while, then rose and simply left without a word.

The boy quietly finished the song, alone. When it trickled into silence, the faceless duo were back.

They screamed at one another, but their words were an unintelligible gibberish. Their voices were garbled and distorted, but their hostility towards each other was obvious. The woman picked up an expensive vase and threw it, the man screamed and hollered and smashed the bottle in his hand against the wall.

The boy started playing again, and only the man remained. He now paced behind the child in a manner very similar to that of the woman.

"You're not doing it right, Nicolas. Fuck, can you even do anything right?" The boy kept playing through the man's rant. "What happened? You used to be so good, now you just sound like trash. What a waste of potential – waste of talent. What is a kid like you going to amount to in life? Do you think you'll just get by on your mother's fortune? On the money I work every day to bring home? You won't, and at the rate you're going, you'll end up on the street. You won't get anything from us – or me." The words were angry and harsh, a direct contrast to the sad, quiet tune the boy played in response to the faceless man's insults.

By the end of the tune, the man had stormed off. No one else rejoined the boy, but still he sat silently at the bench, as if waiting. Nick turned to face him completely, withdrawing his clenched fists from his pockets. The boy's shoulders began to shake. He lowered his head, and then the silence was broken with hushed sobs, the boy's long fingers curling into fists against the polished wood of the bench.

"Hey," Nick called, approaching the boy from behind. "Don't, kid. He isn't worth it."

The child continued to sob, so Nick sat beside the boy on the bench. He tried to put a hand on his shoulder, by the kid turned away. So instead, Nick lifted his hands to rest his fingers lightly on the keys. He then began to play, and though the notes made no sound, he played the instrument by memory to the tune of the somber song in his head.

Eventually the boy stopped crying. He turned back to the keys and watched the man play with his green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. After a moment, the child seemed to find his voice.

"I guess it's just easier to forget it all," whispered the boy, poising his fingers to start playing again.

"Mmhmm," agreed Nick, waiting for the accompaniment to start.

"I'll just forget all this when I grow up, right? So it doesn't matter what happens now. Nothing will matter."

Nick said nothing, and the green-eyed child began to play again.

"It's just easier to forget."

Nick stopped, but the boy kept playing. He kept playing as he and the piano on which he played faded into darkness. Then Nick stood alone in the dark, his hands in his suit jacket pockets, his eyes on the ground.

"If only it was," he breathed. "If only, if only."

* * *

"Nicolas."

Nick was awake before he found the will to open his eyes, and as a result he was shaken lightly by a gentle hand and his name was repeated, louder.

"Nicolas."

"I'm awake." The man lifted his head and directed his gaze up to the kind face of Becca. She smiled a warm smile down at him, then stood straight.

"We do have an extra room if you'd prefer a bed, dear."

The man took a moment to sit up, yawn and roll his shoulders. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and gave his head a quick shake to help wake himself up.

"Thanks, but I think we should head out soon."

"It's late, Nick, and Ellis is already in bed."

Biting his cheek thoughtfully, the conman cast his gaze down the hall.

"I think I might get him up. I'm well rested, and he can sleep in the car, but we really better get going. I don't want to overstay our welcome."

"Oh that's impossible, dear. I'd love for you two to stay the night."

"Again, thank you, but I know a mother who's really looking forward to seeing her son again."

Becca pursed her lips and nodded in understanding. She patted the young man on the shoulder.

"I'll go wake him up and help him gather his things. Take all the time you need."

With that, Becca quietly left to climb the stairs. Nick watched her go, then rose himself. He would have to make sure nothing was missing from his car, and maybe check up on the kid before they left. He really hoped Ellis would just sleep for a few hours, because then he could drive for most of the night and get that much closer to Savannah. He could stop early in the morning and grab a couple hours rest before starting up again in the day.

But as he'd learned, Ellis had a way of ruining his plans.

By the time he'd made sure everything was in order where his car was concerned and Becca had brought him out a "care package" of snacks and treats for the road, Ellis and Jim appeared at the front door. He took a long drag of his cigarette as he studied the Georgian. This was the first time Nick had ever seen the boy look so exhausted. He had bags under his eyes and could barely keep them open. He was still in his Oceanside pyjamas with the bag full of his few belongings slung over his shoulder.

With a yawn, the southerner clopped down the steps and stumbled towards the car where Nick leaned, waiting. He was stopped by Jim, who had been following the boy from the door.

"Here, kiddo," he heard the man say as he turned Ellis around by the shoulder. He passed the boy a small stack of cards, "to remember us by."

Nick couldn't see it, but he was sure the boy's smile was ear-to-ear as he threw himself at the old farmer and trapped his torso in a hug.

"Thanks a million, Jim," Ellis pulled away, only to fly back up the stairs to where Becca leaned against the doorjamb. She was almost floored by the force behind the child's hug, but returned it nevertheless.

Nick tried not to notice the way her eyes watered, and wished his car had been parked further away so he wouldn't have had to see it in the first place. He cast a bitter stare to the ground on his right, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the dirt.

"Nick!" called Ellis, and the man lifted his head to see the boy gesturing urgently for him to come over. The conman sighed, rolled his eyes and pushed off his car, approaching the three who stood on the porch, only to wish he'd brushed off the boy's summons when he continued. "Ya gotta say thank you ta Jim 'n Becca. They done a lot fer us."

Nick felt his insides churn bitterly: Ellis was lecturing him on good manners? He would've smacked the kid upside the head had Jim not the foresight to hold out his hand before the conman could. Nick swallowed his irritation and gave Jim's hand a firm shake. The old farmer clapped his opposite hand over theirs.

"You're a good kid, Nick."

"Thanks," Nick returned, putting on a smile and meeting his elder's warm stare.

"You be sure to stop by any time you're around, y'hear? Becca 'n I would love to hear how everything worked out."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The young man was careful not to make any promises. He had a feeling he'd feel guilty for not keeping them, thanks to Ellis.

As Jim pulled back, Becca stepped forward. Nick's doubts on what to do must have shown in his face, because the little old woman smiled brightly and closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around Nick and pulled him into a hug, one he found himself returning.

"Good luck, boys," she said. When Nick went to release her, she squeezed tighter and added: "It'll all work out, Nick. Have Faith."

The gambler swallowed the instinct to scoff, and settled for nodding as he was released.

Ellis gave the friendly couple another big hug each, then followed on Nick's heels as they walked back out to the car. The elder of the two stood and waited while the little southerner circled the car and ducked into the passenger seat. Nick opened his door, hesitating as he glanced back at the farmhouse and the elderly couple who stood embracing on the porch. They waved to him and he returned it, though his gesture was sheepish and uncertain.

He pursed his lips and ducked into his car. The corvette roared to life, and Nick honked the horn twice as they pulled away. His tires kicked up dust and dirt as they departed, but not nearly enough debris to shroud the pleasant couple who still stood waving. Nick had to avert his eyes before they turned onto the main road, unable to explain or quell the feeling of guilt and regret settling into the pit of his stomach.

He would never see them again.

* * *

Ellis seemed to have found some hidden reserve of energy as they merged onto the I-40. Traffic was sparse, so Nick felt comfortable going far faster than the law allowed, all the while trying to find the right mental frequency to tune out the babbling southerner at his side.

"-probably let me come out 'n visit if I told her what went down an' all. Hell she'd probably even come wit' me! Hey do you think Jim 'n Becca would mind if ma and I dropped in, or should we call an' ask first? Aw hell, gettin' their number is what I should'a done. Did you catch their last names? Might be able to find their number in the phone books if I looked real careful-like. Do you think we could stop an' pick up a New Mexico phone book? I wanna-"

"Ellis, why are you awake?" Nick propped his elbow against the window and held his head on his knuckles, giving the windshield and apathetic look. The man watched in his peripheral vision as Ellis's expression turned confused.

"Well, 'cause I 'aint tired is why," the boy said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You looked half-asleep stumbling out of that house, where did all this fucking energy come from?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Nick! No need ta drop the F-bomb!"

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Ellis, it's almost midnight. Isn't that way past your bed time?"

"Well I _was_ sleepin', then _someone_ decided they just couldn't wait 'till mornin' ta get back on the road. Now 'm awake."

Nick let out a long breath, trying to keep his cool in the small confines of the car. Meanwhile, Ellis shuffled restlessly in his chair. After a short period of silence, he spoke again.

"Hey, Nick, I bin' meanin' to ask ya somethin'."

"If it involves horses, phone books or some shit-for-brains kid named Keith: No."

Ellis made a face like he was trying to be offended, but couldn't muster up the focus for it. However, he didn't let Nick's abrasive negativity trip him up this time, he was learning to work around that.

"Earlier today, after my ma called..."

Nick fought off a wave of embarrassment and deployed his poker face.

"Ya said you were sorry to me, but ya never explained why."

"Mhmm."

Nick could feel Ellis's stare, though he did not turn to meet it and sat in silence until the boy pressed for an answer.

"What were ya sorry fer?"

Nick kept all his emotional reactions in check. He did not narrow his eyes, he did not clench his jaw. He did not grip the steering wheel any tighter, nor did he tear his gaze from the stretch of road his headlights illuminated in front of them. He knew Ellis was watching for a reaction – studying the little ticks he now knew to look for.

The kid's careful observation was just another reminder that they were too close. No one was supposed to know what to look for, he wasn't supposed to have any "tells" - and certainly none that could be identified by a twelve-year-old.

"I was sorry about what you're going through."

It wasn't a total lie, but Ellis doubted it all the same. He puffed out his cheeks in an odd expression of thoughtfulness, then shrugged and turned back to the window.

"I juss thought maybe you were apologizin' fer summin' else."

"Oh?"

"I'unno what, but I juss...I got this feelin', y'know?"

"Nope."

Ellis gave a huff, but couldn't have honestly been surprised by Nick's lack of cooperation.

"I thought that maybe you were talkin' 'bout-"

"Ellis, why don't we play the quiet game? Starting now."

"But I-"

"Quiet game."

Ellis's answering frown was genuinely disappointed, but he pushed no further. He let out a defeated sigh – one Nick put all his focus into forgetting – and then propped his bag against the window and used it as a pillow to rest his head. Miraculously, he managed to spend the rest of his time conscious completely silent. Nick wasn't even sure when exactly the boy had drifted off to sleep, but he carried on driving all the same, as one by one the cars drifted away to their exits and left the duo completely alone.

* * *

The two didn't stop often after the distraction at Jim's farm, and if they did it wasn't for very long. Nick stopped that first morning at a truck stop to catch a quick nap in his car with Ellis out cold beside him. When Ellis awoke with a '_Damn I'm hungry!'_ he stirred the gambler and they carried on their way.

The stops they did make were mostly for bathroom breaks or a bite to eat. Sometimes Nick unsympathetically told Ellis to 'hold it,' because of the habit the kid had formed. He would insist he needed to pee only to get out at the rest stop and take off. He wouldn't go far, and more often than not he would just be satisfied doing a few running laps of the building. Afterwards he would stumble red-faced and sweaty back into the sleek corvette to an unamused Nick.

"I just _had_ ta stretch my legs, man! 'M goin' stir crazy!" he would insist, grinning that cheeky grin even in the face of Nick's annoyance.

But even so, 22 hours was a long time to drive and almost impossible to do all in one stretch. Nick chipped away at however much he could manage in one sitting, trapped in a confined space with a squirming southerner, but could rarely push more than eight hours. The first night, they stopped in a relatively inexpensive motel a couple dozen miles east of Oklahoma City.

It was the first place outside of the farmhouse that Ellis didn't feel under dressed or self-conscious, and he was more than content to mill around the gravel parking lot kicking stones while Nick sorted through "private business" on the phone in their room.

He paused only for a moment in his impromptu game of sport to lean against the door and listen for the sound of Nick's voice. He could hear the man talking, but he spoke in a hushed tone and there was only the familiar drone of his voice – Ellis could distinguish no words.

Only feeling somewhat disappointed – aided by the knowledge that he just wasn't meant to hear – the boy returned to the gravel lot. It reminded him a lot of the motel where he'd first met the elder man, a beat up and quiet location that didn't see too much traffic. There were two other cars in the lot, and neither of them were as nice as Nick's. They were beat-up and old, and their drivers locked away in their own rooms.

Ellis passed by one briefly, only to put a rush in his step when he heard sounds coming from beyond the room door that made his face flush with a guilty heat. He crossed the lot, trying to get as far away from that room as he could manage without leaving the property. Once he was satisfied, the boy sat himself down on the curb and began throwing stones, trying to skip them against the ground in a desperate attempt to distract himself – from what he had heard and what he still couldn't.

He paused in his game thoughtfully, biting his cheek as the cogs in his brain began to turn. He leaned back and stretched out a leg to dig into the deep pockets of his coveralls. He felt his fingertips press into the straight edge of card, and when he adjusted his grip he felt the skin on his finger split open.

"Fuck," he hissed, withdrawing his hand like he'd been bit. "Fuckin' _hate_ papercuts." The boy grumbled to himself and sucked on his fingertip with a pout, but only after a few minutes did he forget the pain and reach into his pocket again. This time, the act of pulling out the stack of glossy cards was far less painful.

He'd kept them in his wide pockets since receiving them from Jim. Part of him didn't want Nick to see them. He was afraid the man would call him childish or mock his sentiment. The old farmer had taken pictures while they were out in the barn with his old camera – the kind he'd seen photographers in malls use to photograph people with celebrities or Santa at Christmas. Ellis had known Jim had the camera the entire time – hell he'd taken a few himself. But they'd taken time to develop and Ellis had already forgotten about them by the time Becca helped him wash up for bed.

Jim had trimmed them down so they were smaller squares, and the hick was glad for it because they fit in his pocket less conspicuously. He'd also sorted through a few of them and picked out what Ellis agreed to be the best ones. There was one of him on Sara-Jean again, and another of him walking carefully across the backs of heavy pigs. In one, Jim chased chickens around the corner of the barn, and in another Ellis posed heroically, standing atop a fence post with the backdrop of Jim's fields. There was another where Ellis had caught Becca looking contemplative out the window, and another where Jim and Becca danced together outside on the porch. Ellis had even grabbed one of Nick, who slept soundly on the couch with the pillow pulled over his head. The last in the stack was the three of them, Ellis between them, smiling frozen smiles at the camera in front of the farmhouse.

Ellis had thrown his arms up in a grandiose manner, while Jim and Becca leaned away to avoid having his hands in their faces, but they smiled so happily the boy felt a surge of joy. He felt like those two needed a good laugh – the kind that made your belly hurt – and he could remember hearing them laugh that laugh in this picture. They were nice people, but Ellis had got the feeling that sometimes he was hurting them by being there, he often saw a melancholic look in their faces when they thought he was distracted. Hell, he'd even caught Becca on camera with that expression, and Jim had decided to pass it on to him.

He wondered if they knew he knew. Well, _he_ didn't really know what he knew. He just had a feeling there was some memory he was kicking up, a memory that made them sad. But for the most part, he seemed to be able to distract them and they looked to be having the time of their lives – Ellis knew he sure did.

The ringing of a little bell brought Ellis's attention to the motel office, where a young man was stepping out into the daylight. The boy shoved the photos in his pocket quickly and turned to study the man. He looked maybe a little older than Nick, but the boy was never a real good judge of age. Acting on instinct, the little southerner gave a quick wave in greeting, surprised when the man returned it and then began to approach.

Ellis twisted his body to face the man a little more and called a welcoming: "Hello!"

The man smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets like Ellis had seen Nick do so many times.

"Hello there, bud!" He spoke with a northerner's accent, and looked directly at Ellis when he spoke. The boy decided he liked that. "What're you doing out here on your own?"

"Juss killin' some time, is all. My friend's in the room takin' care of some 'private business' 'n whatnot. Told me to stay out fer a lil' while."

"Ah, I see. All by yourself?"

Ellis shrugged, hearing the concern in the man's voice.

"I 'aint no baby, I kin take care o' myself fer a couple o' minutes."

"Oh no, that's not what I meant by that...I just..." the man let his stare roll up to the sky as he reconsidered his words. When he'd sorted them out mentally, he looked right back at Ellis. "I figured hanging out on your own would be boring."

Again, Ellis shrugged.

"It 'aint so bad, I s'ppose."

The boy turned and picked up a small stone, throwing it lazily into the air and watching it clatter to the ground again but a few feet away. The northerner watched for a moment in an uneasy silence, then cleared his throat.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

The child's response was quick.

"O'course not!" He shuffled over as if to be further welcoming, and felt his face light up as the stranger settled into the empty space at his side.

The man lowered himself down and let out a long breath as if he'd been standing for quite a while. He arched his back until it cracked, then leaned back on his palms, digging his heels into the dusty earth beneath them.

"Where you from?" asked Ellis, eager to be part of a conversation.

"Ohio," said the stranger, "you?"

"Georgia."

"And what brings you to Oklahoma?"

"'m on like a...road trip with a friend 'o mine." Ellis had paused when he realized he wasn't quite sure what to call this cross-country excursion. The man didn't seem to notice, and nodded.

"Ah, cool. I'm down here on business. I'm something of a contractor, and I've got a client who wants me to get a job done for him."

The boy felt overjoyed that the man had continued – had contributed to the conversation and not just left it hanging in an awkward silence that Ellis would feel compelled to fill.

"Tha's cool, whatchu buildin'?"

The man gave the sky a contemplative look.

"Nothing too exciting, just a custom house."

"Still sounds cool." Ellis adjusted his hat on his head, then leaned forward onto his thighs and did his best to look cool and mature – he pictured Nick's indifferent stance to help him do it. "M'name's Ellis," he said.

"Jack."

The boy's spirits soared. After spending so much time in a confined space with Nick, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have a normal conversation with someone.

"Tha's cool, s'cool," he repeated, grinning dumbly at nothing. He happily twiddled his thumbs while Jack shifted uncomfortably beside him.

"So, your friend, he's older, right?"

"Yeah, he's drivin', after all."

"Oh good. Are you on the leg of coming from or going back to Georgia?"

"Goin' back home," Ellis supplied almost dreamily, "'m lookin' forward to seein' my ma again."

"I'll bet," Jack sat up to brush some gravel out of the palms of his hands. "How long have you been away?

"Pro'aly around a couple o' weeks, I think. I 'aint bin keepin' track, really."

There was another silence, and in it the boy registered Jack's discomfort, though he did not understand it. He decided not to dwell, and carried on doing what he did best.

"'S bin real cool so far – like a movie. I saved my bud's life, got to work on a gen-u-ine race car, got ta ride some horses, man I wouldn't change none o' this for nothin'!"

Jack smiled, and Ellis decided the expression looked tired.

"Sounds pretty cool, you're lucky."

Ellis beamed, pleased to see his energy was somewhat infectious because the man didn't look as tired when he amped up his smile in return.

Ellis began happily babbling, telling some stories of his childhood friend Keith to an audience who didn't seem to loath every word involved in them. It was refreshing, talking to someone other than Nick – someone who didn't mind listening.

It was like the boy had been holding his breath for a really long time, and this was the first chance he'd had to let it all out and breathe in again. Jack was patient, and a very good listener. He smiled and nodded and asked questions – genuine, interested questions that were not at all sarcastic. At first Ellis thought it was odd that someone would want to chat with him, until he decided that it wasn't all that odd, and it was just Nick. Just because Nick was sarcastic and bitter and impatient, that didn't mean everybody was.

The southern boy was just so used to the negativity that anything different from a stranger seemed so unusual.

He remembered when he frequently bothered strangers for conversation, and wouldn't feel self-conscious about what he was saying or if they would want to listen. But Nick avoided strangers as much as he avoided lighthearted conversation. It was something Ellis didn't realize he had missed until it happened again for the first time in a while.

Jack provide much in terms of his own stories to share, but the boy decided that was just because the man was more of a listener.

After a few moments, the door to Ellis's room opened and Nick stepped out. He had a pair of sunglasses on and didn't immediately look to the boy. He focused instead on withdrawing a cigarette and lighting it.

Jack followed the boy's stare until he too spotted the suited man trying to get his lighter to work against a dry breeze. He was still for a moment, then pushed himself to his feet and turned his back on the gambler, looking down to the boy.

"I better go," he said, "I've got a lot of things to do today."

Ellis nodded quickly, never without his smile.

"T'was good ta meetcha, Jack, good luck on yer job."

"Thank you, Ellis. I hope you get home soon – and don't let Nick bother you too much."

"Righ'! G'bye!"

The man called back a farewell, but was already in the process of walking around the motel office, probably to a car parked on the other side. Ellis smiled as he watched him go, only to feel the expression die on his face a little as he thought through those final moments. Nick had lit his cigarette and was crossing the parking lot to where the little southerner sat.

"Who was that?" Nick called, sounding as indifferent as ever. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, so Ellis was even less sure than usual how to interpret the man's tone.

"His name was Jack 'n he's a contractor. Juss passin' through, he says."

Nick nodded and drew in a long breath while Ellis turned back to stare at the corner the man had vanished behind. The man noticed Ellis's thoughtful stare and spoke.

"Got yourself a new crush, do you?"

There was no questioning the mockery in the man's tone this time.

"Shuddap, I don', juss curious is all." Ellis pulled the bill of his hat down his face to hide his childish pout, though he had a feeling Nick would know it was there all the same.

"Well come on, we'll go grab a bite to eat and then turn in for the night."

Nick trapped the cigarette between his lips and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Ellis rose to his feet.

"But it's still so early!"

"And when you're driving, you can go to bed as late as you want." Nick strode right by him, continuing down the lot to where his corvette gleamed in the sunlight. Ellis followed, but couldn't help another puzzled stare back to where Jack had disappeared. He repeated their conversation over and over again in his mind, trying to remember everything he'd said to the stranger in their short time together.

But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't draw up the moment in question, which left him curious:

When did he tell the man Nick's name?

* * *

**HELLO**

**Oh my god I missed you guys so much!**

**And I come with good news!**

**As I'm sure you all know, I have a bad habit of forgetting to finish stories. But my belated New Year's revolution was to finish the projects I care most about. I've finished one already, and now I'm turning to this one. I hope you guys can forgive the long wait, and I thank you for returning to read this if you did. Feel free to yell at me in a review, I know I deserve it. **

**Now, let's proceed into the home stretch together and see this through (finally!)**

**It was all of your reviews that keep me going, so please, send me a review - we have a lot to catch up on! I promise to respond to as many as I can (maybe over PM, maybe in the footnotes, I don't know. You tell me what to do!)**

**Thanks so much for reading this far.**

**So happy to be here again (:**

**~Shmee**


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